Harbinger
by Copper Vixen
Summary: Harry is a demon with a mission. His assignment? To locate and retrieve his target before he runs out of time or irreparable damage is done to the mortal plane. HPDM Slash
1. Chapter 1

DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter and all other characters and locations belong to J. K. Rowling.

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Chapter One - A Not So Simple Task**

Harold James Potter lay draped upon a narrow ledge, his eyes closed as if in slumber. The warmth from the frothing liquid boiling beneath him had lulled him into a conscious doze, only the odd twitch of a wing showing he was still awake. His hair was the colour of a moonless night, setting off skin tanned by the fires of hell. Upon the back of his left hand was a tattoo, a simple black circle with no other adornment or markings.

The raven-haired male was a demon. A rather minor demon in the eyes of the underworld. However, once he was given a task and sent forth, his place within the demon hierarchy rose. Harry went from being a nuisance to a harbinger. His very presence upon the mortal plane was enough to send even the strongest demon fleeing for the safety of home. Which was exactly what Hades had intended when he'd created the peculiar breed of demon.

A demon born and bred to hunt other demons without remorse or pause. Retrievers they had been deemed, for that was their purpose. When a demon failed to return from the surface within the allotted time, a Retriever would be sent to retrieve them. They would hunt without resting, using highly developed olfactory senses to sniff out the dark magic that wrapped itself around every demon. The Retrievers place within the depths of hell was shifty, their turncoat ways earning them a bad reputation and many enemies.

Which was exactly why Harry was currently occupying a narrow piece of rock in the middle of an empty cave. He had come to realize over the sixteen years of his existence that making friends was a pain in the ass, a pain that he certainly didn't need. Thus decided, the raven-haired demon preferred to be left alone, leaving the comfort of his lair only when called.

An approaching buzz had him shifting on his dangerous perch, arms stretching out slowly. He made no other move when the noise grew louder, waiting patiently to be addressed. "You're Harry Potter?" The pixie sized demon asked, its dragonfly like wings humming loudly to keep it afloat.

Opening one emerald eye slowly, the raven-haired demon considered the question. Tipping his head slightly, he gave a brief nod. "I am."

At his response, the hovering demon unrolled the scroll he held and cleared his throat with a sharp hack. "Harry Potter, Retriever, is summoned to the throne room, immediately." With a proud smile, the fiery pixie glanced at the much larger demon sprawled lazily before him and arched an eyebrow.

"Or?" Harry asked, pushing himself up on his elbows to better observe the messenger. A devilish smile crossed his face as he opened his heavily scaled wings, fluttering them softly before snapping them closed with a crack. The sudden wind sent the little demon tumbling backwards through the air, arms and legs flailing as he fought to regain his balance.

"Or?" Repeated the fiery demon, confusion covering his narrow face as he managed to right himself. Brow drawing down, he lifted the paper he held and silently reread the message before shaking his head. "There is no 'or'."

"Or what? What will happen if I don't answer the summons?" Asked the emerald-eyed demon.

Mouth hanging open in shock, the messenger demon shook its head. "It's just not done, Retriever. When one is called, they _go._" Still shaking its head, the hovering demon rolled up the scroll and set it aflame.

Harry lay silent, watching the red flames lick over the parchment that had held his summons. In seconds, all that remained within the fiery demon's blackened claws were ashes. With once last glare at him, the small demon took off, leaving him in peace to contemplate the message.

A summons to the Royal Throne room was never a good thing. It generally meant you'd either screwed up or the boss had something for you to do. Since he'd been on his best demonic behaviour for the last three months, it meant it was the later of the two. Curling a lip at the thought of having to complete another inane task, he rolled over and stared into the darkness that broiled above him.

_Harry Potter, to me at once._ A voice hissed through his mind, jolting him into a sitting position. He clutched the narrow pinnacle he perched upon, unfurling his wings in a vain attempt to keep from toppling off. Growling unhappily, he rose fluidly and stepped away from the rock, dropping toward the ocean of lava that churned against the rocky cliffs.

A tip of his wings had him gliding smoothly through the air, eyes on the shadowed tunnel that would take him into the massive throne room. He reached the area in front of the cave without incident, landing quietly upon the warm rock that led into the devil's den. Shooting a longing glance over his shoulder, he folded his dark wings and stepped into shadows that readily consumed him.

XxXxX

Within the bowels of hell, there was only darkness and the orange glow cast by the veins of lava flowing through the narrow channels carved into the stone. No true light could penetrate the deep shadows or brighten the darkest of marble corridors. It was with the senses of cats and bats that the demons navigated the numerous and never ending tunnels that stretched through the earth. Winding their way past treacherous abyss' and creatures even darker then they, the demons who called Hell home knew the dark paths like they knew the rules they existed by.

Gliding his sharp fingernails along the black wall running to his right, Harry pondered the reason for the summons. Unless someone had discovered his involvement in the disappearance of one of the lesser demons, he was pretty sure it was business. Though, if it was the first, he could probably claim it as morbid curiosity: he'd really wanted to know if that bottomless pit was really bottomless. Since his test subject had yet to reappear, he would assume that someone had failed to return on time, breaking the cardinal rule by which demons traveled to the mortal plane.

Harry was, by birth, a Retriever. A demon sent forth to locate and capture other demons who'd overstayed their welcome among the humans. It was a dirty and dangerous job, one that never failed to annoy him. How hard was it to keep track of time? Apparently it was exceedingly difficult.

Snorting at the incompetence of his kind, he swept into the throne room and stalked gracefully forward. He kept his gaze locked upon the dark marble beneath his feet, ears tuned to the sounds echoing around the cavernous room. When he reached the center of the massive lair, he dropped to his knees and lowered his forehead to the floor, pressing close to the warm stone. "What would you have of me, my Lord?"

"Don't even try it, Retriever. You dared to think you could defy me." Hades snarled from his throne. Hissing in anger, the god slammed his palm down on the arm of the sleek bone chair he lounged in. The sound reverberated through the room, causing the shadows clinging to the walls to shift eagerly. "I won't accept disobedience from you, Harold James Potter."

"I apologize, my Lord. I shall make sure it does not happen again." The raven-haired demon stated to the floor, pulling his wings tight to his back. He rolled his eyes up when Hades failed to respond, searching through the darkness to see what or whom had drawn the god's attention from him. The sight of another Retriever whispering to the pale god had him groaning and banging his head against the hard floor.

"Stop that at once, little Retriever. I have a job for you, a very important job I want taken care of immediately." Hades hissed, rising and prowling down the dais his throne was set upon. "A member of my dark court has decided to take a little vacation. This vacation has gone on too long; it is time for him to come home. I have made two attempts to summon him back and sent three of your brethren out to locate him. All have failed."

Breathing out slowly, Harry ground his forehead into the floor and squeezed his eyes shut. "What would you have of me, my Lord?" He asked again.

"You are to retrieve him." Hades instructed calmly, circling the demon kneeling on the floor. His dark robes slithered behind him as he paced, the cloth hissing softly. "You will leave at once."

"Yes, my lord." Harry said, lifting his head and meeting the burning orbs of the god who controlled him. Nodding his head in understanding, he rose smoothly and opened his wings before sweeping a quick bow to the higher demons lazing in the darkness along the walls. "I will see it done."

"Excellent. I need not explain the rules that govern your actions for you already know them. Be quick, and if you must, kill anything that gets in your way. Bring him back, Harold James Potter, and you shall be well rewarded." The god murmured in promise as he raised a long fingered hand. He set his cool palm on the raven-haired demon's forehead and pushed with his magic, sending him spiraling through space and toward his destination.

XxXxX

Harry let out an oomph as he slammed into the hard ground, the soft blanket of snow he landed in swallowing him. Groaning at the pain radiating through his back, he sat up carefully and rolled his shoulders. The absence of his wings was noticed immediately, their comforting weight gone from his back. Bemoaning his loss, he lifted his eyes and peered up at the moon.

As the cold winter air began to drop the temperature of his body, he glanced down at his golden skin and rumbled angrily. Just like Hades, to drop him somewhere in the middle of winter without proper clothing. At that thought, his gaze shot to his wrist, searching for the silver bracelet that contained his tools. A relived huff escaped him as he adjusted the metal, fingers trailing over the charms and vials hanging off the band.

The first appeared to be a black dog, its body sleek with a long whip like tail. Eyes of ruby shone ethereally, glowing as no gem should glow. Hanging beside the canine figure was a vial containing a blue liquid. Within the miniature bottle, the liquid swirled and sloshed of its own accord. A second vial swung next to the first, the potion inside a vibrant green. Shining in deadly warning, a tiny sword of iron swung back and forth, the tip of its blade tainted red. A little key crafted of gold rubbed against the sword, a piece of black obsidian set along the narrow teeth. The last charm was of a raven, its dark wings spread as if in flight. Harry could draw upon any of the charms at will, utilizing the creatures and potions to aid him in his hunt.

Swinging his head around, he searched the darkness before rising cautiously. In the distance a castle glowed, its many windows brightened by candlelight. He curled a lip at the light that radiated from the building, his shoulders hunching in fear and distaste. It seemed this was where the last Retriever had ended its hunt, a touch of its dark aura lingering in the air. Sighing, he stared at the twinkling castle and decided he had no other choice but to proceed.

Bending at the waist, he trailed his fingers through the snow and focused his power. When he lifted his hand, a long white cloak crafted of snow revealed itself, dangling from the tips of his sharp fingernails. He slipped the garment on quickly before settling the deep cowl over his head. Snorting loudly to clear his nose, he broke into a quick lope. His long strides ate up the ground, demon stamina and speed making the miles between himself and castle melt away.

The dragon sentinels roared threateningly as he passed by them, leaping gracefully over the locked gate without slowing. His pace slowed as he strode toward the sprawling castle. His ears seeking out the faintest of noises, his nostrils flaring as he took in the lingering scents surrounding the stone structure. Flowing down the path toward the door, he neither hesitated nor paused, completely sure of his abilities and power.

Harry stood before a large pair of doors, shifting restlessly as he inhaled deeply. Smells bombarded his delicate nose, forcing him to breath through his mouth in search of relief. Magic tasting sweetly of candy wafted on the air currents, the castle itself reeking of chocolate and vanilla. Snorting softly, he glanced at the green vial and shook his head. The liquid within had paled considerably, changing to a soft spring green.

"What led you here, brother?" He whispered quietly into the night. Shaking his head at the foolishness of the question, he lifted a hand and knocked upon the door. Through the thick wood he heard the reverberating thump echo down the empty corridor beyond the portal. Turning away from the door, he peered out into the darkness, sniffing in an attempt to discern exactly which Retriever had been here before him. The muffled shuffle of footsteps had him spinning around and tucking his hands under the folds of the icy cloak, hiding the tattoo and wristband as the door was tugged open.

Peering out at him, an older man frowned before dragging the heavy doors open further and gesturing Harry inside. "Lost, are you?" The man snapped, leaning his shoulder into the doors so they would close.

"Not exactly." Harry replied, tipping his head and breathing deeply. Faint traces of magic clung to the man but were considerably faded. This man may once have wielded power but it was no longer with him. "I'd like to speak with the individual in charge." He stated calmly, drawing his aura closer to his body. Magic danced around him, confusing senses that were already being overworked. Somewhere within the castle people spoke, their words reaching Harry's ears as if he were standing beside them.

Muttering under his breath, the man hobbled away from Harry. "This way." He barked over his shoulder, indicating the raven-haired boy follow him.

Silently Harry trailed after the man, narrowing his eyes against the bright lights. The murmuring of voices grew louder, as did the gentle pressure of magic. So much power within one area was startling, tensing his muscles as they drew closer to the mortals who lived here. Flexing his fingers, he curled his lip and skirted a particularly large patch of light. Around his shoulders the snowy cloak shifted, the cool cloth brushing against his naked body. Internally cursing Hades, he stepped into the doorway the man had turned into and froze.

"Damn," he snarled as hundreds of eyes lifted to peer at him in interest. Young mortals sat upon wooden benches, all of them wearing robes that were almost identical in colour. Raising his gaze, he looked to where the limping man had gone and headed forward, ignoring the whispers that rose up in his wake.

He halted before the raised dais the limping man had loped gracelessly around, ears picking up the hissed whispers passing between the men. Smoothing his fingers over the blue vial in an attempt to soothe himself, he felt magic swell around him, reaching out and brushing against his aura. His powers flared in response, swiftly rebutting the seeking magic. Tipping his head, Harry considered the magic user sitting before him, pondering the chance that all of the castle's power belonged to this man. Sniffing delicately, he scrunched his nose up and pushed the thought away. The magic dancing around the room was young, untested and unharnessed.

"Welcome to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, young man. I am Headmaster Albus Dumbledore and you are . . ." The old wizard asked, reaching up and straightening his glasses as he leaned forward.

Retriever. Demon. Death. Destruction. Harbinger. A demon never gave their true name to anyone. To have a demon's name was to have the ability to summon it at will and command it to do your business. Tipping his head, he glanced over his shoulder at the crowd of witches and wizards and groaned. "You may call me 'Harry'." He answered finally, clamping his jaw down as the whispers from behind him grew louder. Simple, straightforward, and not enough to call him from Hell with.

A shifting further down the dais drew his gaze, bringing his eyes to a man with shoulder length black hair. Opening his mouth slightly, Harry inhaled subtly, sorting through the various scents and tastes. The sugary taste of magic filled his lungs, soured only by the light wisps of dark magic wafting through the room. Widening his emerald eyes, he stared at the tall dark-haired wizard and stretched out his aura.

"Excellent, what can we do for you, Harry?" Dumbledore asked, puzzled by the look of intense concentration the younger wizard wore. For it was obvious he was a wizard, the air around him fairly crackled with magic and power.

Distracted, Harry extended his magic further, brushing it lightly against the dark-haired wizard's aura. "I seek," he said slowly, staring at the dark purple magic marred with streaks of black hovering around the older man. "Knowledge."

"Then you've come to the right place." Albus Dumbledore chortled, clasping his hands before him. His beard trailed over the table, the length of gray hair dripping with gravy from the plate sitting before him.

"Albus, his name isn't on the list." The woman sitting next to the headmaster whispered, unnerved by the blazing emeralds that focused on her suddenly.

"Now, Minerva, there's always room for one more." Albus replied, his bright blue eyes locked on the raven-haired wizard. Standing slowly, he pushed his chair back and walked around and the table. "Come with me, my boy, and we'll get you sorted out."

Harry inhaled once more before turning and following the path the old wizard had taken. The greasy haired man was not the one he sought, however dark magic clung to his aura. The type of dark magic that came from being in the presence of one rogue demon. Pulling his aura back around his body, he ran his fingers over the silver band he wore and stepped into the shadowed stairwell Albus Dumbledore had vanished up. The hunt was on.

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A/N: Well, it's not my usual cup of tea but I suppose I'll see where it leads me. Thanks for reading. 


	2. Dreary Dungeons

DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter and all other characters and locations belong to J. K. Rowling.

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Chapter Two - Dreary Dungeons**

Harry trailed Albus Dumbledore up the dark stairwell, his pupils dilating and adjusting his vision within a heart's beat of entering the shadows. He rumbled softly as sparks and small bursts of magic flared along the walls, blinding him momentarily. Blinking away the white stars, he bit down the hiss that threatened to escape him and shook his head. A glance at the second vial hanging upon his wrist showed no change in the potion inside; the liquid still a soft green.

Breathing slowly, he sorted carefully through the various smells flowing into his lungs. He ran his tongue over his lips at the overly sweet taste of pure magic, the smell dissolving in his mouth like cotton candy. Pushing down the moan of delight that rose within his throat, he flicked his eyes to the wizard walking ahead of him.

Not a single trace of dark magic stained the wizard's aura, it was uncanny really. Demons were attracted to power. They fed upon it. Influenced their chosen prey to commit heinous crimes and sully their auras just for amusement. Yet the obviously powerful wizard before him fairly glowed with goodness, his aura shining a happy yellow. It was enough to make Harry gag.

"Just a little further." Albus Dumbledore called jovially over his shoulder. The sudden appearance of one of the castle's ghosts had him smiling and halting, preparing to make a quick introduction. However, as soon as the ghost laid eyes on the raven-haired boy it let out a panicked cry and shot back through the floor it had originally floated through. "Well, that was strange."

Harry smiled sweetly and shrugged his shoulders, inhaling deeply as he passed over the stone the ghost had vanished through. "You're not worth my time," he breathed. He was a hunter of demons, not a chaser of confused souls.

Ahead of him Albus had stopped, his soft whisper audible to the raven-haired demon's sensitive ears. Sherbert Lemons. Tucking away that little tidbit, Harry stepped onto one of the shifting steps and rode it upwards. He froze at the top of the stairs, peering into the brightly lit office. Bracing himself, he slid into the large room and glared warily around.

Things were piled everywhere, all of them seeming to glow under the candlelight. Pressing down the urge to shield his eyes with one of his hands, he slunk further into the room and halted. Dozens of seemingly insignificant pieces of metal whirled and chirped merrily. Portraits on the walls stared at him with interest, whispering amongst themselves as he prowled cautiously forward. A sudden burst of noise brought him to a stop, sending his eyes searching for the source.

Tipping his head at the high pitched whining, Harry turned slowly on the balls of his feet and stared at the clanking piece of metal. An amused smile crossed his lips as he glided forward and placed a hand atop the little device. "It's been a long time since I've encountered one of these," he murmured. His eyes lifted to meet the startled blue orbs staring at him in a combination of fear and fascination. Shaking his head, he sent a thread of magic into the Demon Detector and silenced it.

"You're a demon." Albus stated, drawing his wand and placing it calmly upon the desk in front of him.

"I am," replied Harry, walking quietly toward the old wizard. He seated himself carefully in one of the adjacent chairs, arranging the white cloak around his body. The metal of his silver wristband bumped against the arm of the chair, clattering loudly in the lingering silence.

"Why have you come to my school?" Rasped Albus, clasping his hands together and resting them on the desk inches away from his wand.

Harry recognized the threat and bowed his head in acknowledgment. "I seek someone. A member of my extended family, one might say." He slid his left hand free of the snowy garment and looked at the tattoo drawn upon his skin. A black ring had taken the place of the circle, one side appearing slightly wider than the other.

"And you think they're within the walls of Hogwarts? I can assure you, Harry, that none of my students are demons, and my faculty has been with me for many years." Albus argued, rubbing his hands together. A soft crooning drew his gaze to the phoenix perched in the corner, its feathers shimmering copper and gold. Taking a deep breath, the old wizard frowned.

"One of my brethren was here before I; that is enough to make me believe the one I seek is close." Harry said softly, his emerald eyes sparking. "My kind . . . we don't make mistakes when we hunt. Once we have the scent, we track without error."

"Who is it you're looking for?" The headmaster queried, his curiosity chasing away the fear and worry that had been consuming him.

Harry's lips curved as he slid deeper into the red chair, interlacing his fingers beneath the cloak. "I'm not at liberty to say. Besides, I doubt you've ever met him."

"I know many people, my boy, perhaps I could assist you in finding this individual."

Harry tossed his head back and laughed, slapping his knee in amusement. "The fact that you're sitting here before me is testament enough that you've never encountered my cousin." Still chuckling softly, the raven-haired demon rose and began to pace silently back and forth. "I will not give you the details of my hunt. Instead, I'll ask your permission to stay within the walls of your castle while I search. Should you say no, I'll leave immediately."

Dumbledore stroked his beard in thought, observing the fluid way the young demon carried himself. "I will allow you to remain within my school, however, there are several rules you must abide by for the duration of your stay." He announced as he straightened in his chair and used one of his fingers to push his glasses up his nose. "None of my students are to be harmed. You are to use the utmost caution while searching for your . . ."

"Cousin," Harry supplied lightly.

"Cousin," Albus echoed, frowning as he glanced at Fawkes. The phoenix let out a barrage of soft notes, unfurling its wings under the old wizard's gaze. "You will have to attend classes and be sorted like a normal student would. I'm afraid that under these circumstances it would arouse suspicion if I were to deviate from the normal routine."

"I won't be here long enough for anyone to notice me." Harry murmured, eyelids dropping to half-mast. He stared at the wizard through sooty lashes, pushing down the shiver that raced up his spine. One month. For one month he would be away from the warm fires of hell, freezing his balls off as he chased a High Court demon around through the snow. Just the thought was enough to make him want to curl up in a ball and hide.

"None the less, you'll be placed within one of the four houses. Generally the Sorting Hat would be given the task of placing you but I shall give you the chance to choose your own house." Leaning back in his chair, Dumbledore rubbed his hands together and peered longingly at the fire blazing in the hearth. "The first house is Gryffindor. Students placed within this house are brave and daring with nerves of steel; they reside in one of the towers."

Harry shook his head at the description, brave and daring he was not. Not to mention the location of their dormitories was a complete put off. Still shaking his head, he tuned back into the old wizard's rambling speech in time to catch the word dungeons. "Sold." He bit out sharply, ignoring the visible flinch his voice caused.

"Pardon?" Dumbledore asked, glancing up from the book he had been pursuing to meet glowing emeralds. His mouth snapped shut and his lips firmed under the feral gaze, fingers aching to snatch his wand.

"I shall stay with the house dwelling in the dungeons." Harry calmly stated, ignoring any attempt at a protest. "My kind prefers the dark."

"Very well," Dumbledore grumbled. He plucked a quill from the pot of ink resting upon his desk and made a quick note in a large book. "The Slytherins are not the nicest of students; many have parents who dabble in the Dark Arts. Though I suppose that will assist you in finding what you seek."

"Don't worry about me, old man, I can take care of myself." Harry murmured, flexing his fingers.

"You'll need the proper books and several uniforms. I'll handle the expe-"

"No need," Harry said. His fingers flew over the silver wristband, picking out the little gold key that swung innocently back and forth. As soon as it had been removed from its place upon his wrist, it grew bigger. Bouncing the key upon his palm, he shot the wizard a thoughtful look before lightly tossing the piece of metal at him. "Number four hundred thirty-two at Valhalla Vaults. A last name won't be required."

Dumbledore stared at the key, his wide eyes focused on the slice of black stone set among the teeth. The shimmer of red that flowed freely through the stone startled him into dropping it, wincing as it clattered upon his desk. "All right." Shaking his head, he picked the key up and slid it into the front pocket of his robe. "I trust that you'll come to me if you have any problems or find that the Slytherin dormitories don't agree with you. Tomorrow morning you'll find all of your supplies in the trunk at the end of your bed."

Harry bowed deeply as he backed away, holding the folds of the cloak together. "I thank you for allowing me to remain here. If there's anything that I might assist you with, please feel free to call me."

Albus waved the comment off, his eyes shifting to the phoenix watching the exchange silently. "Fawkes will guide you to your dorm." The wizard flicked his fingers imperiously, the gesture sending the fiery bird into the air in an explosion of red feathers. "Sleep well, Harry."

Harry chuckled at the comment; his sleep was anything but gentle. "Before I leave, Albus Dumbledore, who is the greasy haired man who sits upon the dais within the dining hall?"

Blinking in confusion, Albus replayed the description before frowning. "Professor Severus Snape is a valuable member of my staff as well as your Head of House. He has taught Potions here for many years and deserves your respect."

"Good night, Headmaster." Harry called over his shoulder, ignoring the reprimand contained within the last sentence. He trotted down the stairs, emerald eyes immediately darting to the phoenix perched upon a bust of some famous dead wizard. "Lead on, bright fowl."

XxXxX

Harry could tell as soon as he arrived within the dungeons that they would suit him just fine. Dank, dark, and reeking of black magic. A smile twisted his face as he walked quietly along one of the walls, the phoenix watching him nervously from the opposite side of the hall. He froze in mid-step, fingers hovering over the sliver of a crack in the mortar of the wall. Hooking one of his nails in the crevice, he stretched his other arm out and searched diligently for the matching line running further down the wall.

"Got you," he mumbled as he found the fissure. Pressing the tips of his sharp nails into the brick, he pushed dark magic through the stones, overriding the password with a twist of his aura. He stepped back as the section of wall swung open, waiting patiently for it to stop sliding before walking gracefully into the large room.

Shocked eyes met his appearance, mouths falling open as he flowed into the room like water. Smiling sweetly, Harry looked the group over, enjoying the various expressions displayed upon their faces. Shock. Fear. Interest. Lust. He decided to make the most of the silence and drew upon his magic. As his aura rippled to life around him, he became aware of the sour smell of dark magic that flourished throughout the room.

"Good evening," he murmured politely, sending his aura seeking. His gaze slid around the room easily, nose working in tandem as he sought out the origins of the black magic. He couldn't help the arch of his eyebrows as it became apparent that everyone in the room was marked with streaks of dark magic.

"Who the hell are you?" The blonde witch sitting cross-legged atop one of the desks inquired, putting her little nose in the air when his gaze shifted to her.

Her aura was a light brown, streaks of black circling her heart and forearm liberally. "Harry, transfer student."

"You're melting." The witch snapped as she slid off the desk, her short skirt riding up. Tossing her hair angrily, she flounced past him in the direction of one of the halls, several other witches trailing quickly after her.

Harry glanced down and sighed as he realized he was standing in a puddle. A quick brush of his fingers along the length of his snow cloak had his cheeks reddening. Damn Hades! "So I am." He agreed, daring any to question him.

"Where'd you say you transferred from?" A blond wizard seated before the massive fireplace asked.

Tipping his head, Harry studied the wizard's aura. "Hell," he drawled, curving his lips into an amused smirk. Lifting a hand to his rumpled hair, he studied the rings of black that circled the pale crown atop the blond's head.

"Oh?" The blond responded, blue eyes widening innocently. "And how's the weather in Hell?"

"Perfect," Harry breathed. Running his gaze the length of the boy's body in appreciation.

"Is that where you came by this delicious tan?" One of the witch's cooed, mincing toward him and sliding a slender finger over his narrow wrist. Batting her eyelashes seductively, she attempted to tangle her fingers with his only to have him step back and give her a disgusted look.

"It is, though I must warn you to use the utmost caution while lying next to the fires of Hell. Get too close . . . and you'll be consumed by the flames." Harry purred, delighting in the red flush that swept the blond's delicate features. Arching an eyebrow, he carefully examined the students remaining in the spacious room.

To his extreme bewilderment, every student in the room was marked with dark magic and the residual touch of demon power. Someone had been very busy, he thought. Shaking his head, he observed each student's aura; carefully taking stock of the damage the rogue demon had left upon the young witches and wizards. Only a High Court demon could have done such a thing in such a short period of time.

Minor demons and imps would work away at a person's aura, tending the seed of darkness buried deep within their victim's heart for decades in order to get even half the reaction that a High Court demon could get in weeks. With more power and intelligence, High Court demons could influence mortals from a distance, subjecting them to nightmares and terrible bouts of depression with little more than a snap of their fingers.

The silence that fell upon the room had him drifting out of his reverie and peering about in question. He tilted his head when he found the blond watching him with a frown, pale eyebrows hitched. "I apologize. It's been a long day."

"Indeed." The dark-haired boy seated next to the blond said, slumping deeper into the chair he was comfortably situated in. "What year are you in?"

"I'm sixteen," Harry replied, waiting to see what reactions his response would garner.

"Sixth year." Dark-hair murmured, shooting the blushing blond a knowing look. "You're in our dorm, then. By the way, I'm Blaise and this is Draco." The dark-haired wizard stated, rising and gliding gracefully toward Harry.

"A pleasure to meet you, Blaise." Harry stated, extending his hand politely. He accepted the hand the wizard offered and shook it carefully.

"I'll show you to the sixth year dorm." Blaise mumbled, waiting for Draco to join them at one of the long halls before leading the way down the shadowed corridor. The room he turned into was lit by several small candles, their faint light making the room seem terribly dreary. "Your trunk hasn't arrived yet." Blaise remarked, halting next to the bed he had claimed the first year he had come to Hogwarts. He quickly checked to make sure his own trunk had arrived, unable to stop a relieved sigh from slipping past his lips when his eyes landed on the dark brown box.

"I have been assured it will arrive tomorrow morning." Harry muttered, pacing down the length of the room. Pausing when he came to the wall, he reached out and placed a cautious hand on the stone, sending his magic seeking. He barely suppressed the growl that rose in his throat when the castle's wards overwhelmed his senses. Yanking his palm back, he shook his hand and stuck his tongue out at the damp brick.

"What are you going to wear to bed?" Draco queried, drawing silk pajamas from one of his oversized trunks.

The chance to see the blond blush again was just too much for Harry to take. Turning slowly away from the wall, he reached up and placed his hand on the melting cloak's clasp. With a flick of his fingers, the garment fell to the floor, leaving him standing naked. "Why, nothing." Chuckling happily, he walked slowly toward the only bed without a trunk at the end and slipped slowly beneath the blankets. "Good night, Blaise, Draco." Closing his eyes, he listened to the two wizards get ready for bed before allowing himself to slip into an unconscious doze.

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A/N: My thanks to everyone who took the time to read and review! 


	3. Bathroom Intruder

DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter and all other characters and locations belong to J. K. Rowling.

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Chapter Three – Bathroom Intruder**

Harry's eyes flicked open and he inhaled slowly. Blinking lazily, he shifted under the thin blankets he'd slept beneath and yawned. He stretched his arms above his head, splaying his fingers as far as they would go before relaxing them. Peering around the dark room, he pushed himself into a sitting position and rubbed his face. Around him the wizards slept on, completely oblivious to the fact that a demon was among them. The thought drew his gaze to the black circle on the back of his hand, index finger rising to trace the shape.

The dark tattoo was the calendar by which he hunted. For every day that passed, the lines grew thicker and the ring slowly filled. When the circle was complete, he would be whisked back to Hell. It was one of the few rules that the Retrievers hunted by; thirty days or the cycle of the moon to find the one they sought. It was also the only insurance Hades had that his hunters would return.

Closing his eyes, he sank back amidst the blankets and inhaled slowly. His sensitive ears picked up the sluggish pumping of the blood through his veins and the slow repetitive thump of his heart. Each rasping breath that left the lungs of the slumbering wizards was like the pumping of a bellows, deep and steady. Exhaling softly, he opened his emerald eyes and stared at the dark canopy of the bed. A quiet whimper had him tensing and turning to the bed sitting to the left of his, watching as the form buried beneath the blankets shifted.

Frowning, he slid from under the covers and padded the short distance to the wizard's side. He tipped his head and stared down at the blond's flushed features, observing the way the pale hair clung to his damp brow. Extending a hand, he brushed his fingers over the side of the wizard's face, pushing the sweaty strands aside. A grin twisted his features when the blond pursed his lips and mumbled quietly before rolling over and burrowing deeper beneath his blankets. Shaking his head, he took a slow step backward and turned around, stilling when the trunk resting at the end of his bed caught his eye.

Gliding forward silently, he halted before the pale wooden trunk and tilted his head. A Hogwarts uniform was folded atop the lid, complete with silver and green tie. Atop the tie was a piece of parchment, his name scrawled across the front. Swearing softly, he reached out and grabbed the letter. As he lifted the parchment, something slid from between the folds and clattered to the floor. Kneeling, he scanned the stone until a small splash of gold upon the dark rock caught his eye. "There you are," he breathed in greeting. Reaching out, he snatched up the key to his vault and affixed it to his wristband. When the key made contact with its small hook, it was immediately shrunk back down to charm size.

Smiling fondly, Harry flicked the dangling key before turning his attention back to the letter he held. He slid his nail under the lump of wax, taking pleasure in obliterating the Hogwarts crest that had been carefully pressed into the red blob. With a crackle of parchment, he unfolded the note and held it before him.

_Dear Harry, _

_I hope that you have enjoyed your first night in Hogwarts and find the Slytherin dormitories to your liking. The House of Salazar Slytherin is not for everyone but I trust that the students gave you a welcome worthy of any pureblood. Professor Snape is your Head of House and has been alerted to your presence within the dormitories. Undoubtedly he'll wish to speak with you about his expectations and standards later this evening. _

_I was able to access your vault as directed and have purchased the items you will require for the classes I have placed you in. Everything that you need can be found within the trunk before you. Several complete uniforms and other house accessories have been placed in the wardrobe so that you might draw upon them as necessary. You are expected to wear the complete uniform at all times while moving around outside your House, however, all Houses have different dress codes after class and you may follow the example set by your roommates. _

_Inside your trunk you will also find a wand. Without his wand, a wizard is nothing. While I am unsure whether or not this will actually be of any use to you, I believe for propriety's sake that you should keep it close at hand. Perhaps you'll find another use for it once you move on. _

_All the books required for your classes as well as some which will help you learn a little more about the wizarding world are among the contents of your trunk. Inks and quills of various sizes and colours were also purchased so that you might pick out the one that best suits you. I ask that you kindly pay attention in the classes I have selected for you as they may provide knowledge that could possibly help you find your 'cousin'. _

_I have also set aside a pouch of wizarding money for you, should you feel the need to order or purchase something that I have forgotten. If I recall correctly, it should be somewhere between a cloak and several packages of Chocolate Frogs. _

_Lastly, I'll remind you of your promise that none of my students will come to any harm during the duration of your stay with us. Your presence at Hogwarts defies a large number of rules and regulations, which I am currently breaking for you. _

_Thank you and good day,  
Albus Dumbledore,  
Headmaster of Hogwarts._

Snorting at the older wizard's tenacity, Harry crumpled the letter into a ball and pitched it at the embers glowing in the hearth. The dying fire welcomed the fodder and quickly rose up to consume the parchment, crackling greedily as it turned the creamy paper to ash. After making sure that the letter had been completely demolished, he shifted the items from atop the trunk onto the bed and lifted the wooden lid. Pursing his lips, he rifled through the contents quietly until a long box with the word 'Ollivanders' written in gold drew his eyes. Lifting it from the mess, he flicked the lid open and glared at the contents.

His eyes narrowed and he hissed softly at the piece of wood resting within the narrow box. A twitch of his nose and the sudden flaring of his aura told him all he needed to know about the wand. It was made out of Holly with a core of fire fowl. "Kindling," he whispered to the wand lying harmlessly upon the silk. Shaking his head, he snapped the lid shut and dropped the box back into the trunk.

Demons were magical beings that relied directly on their auras for power. The stronger the demon, the easier it was for them to twist and manipulate their magic. No whispered word or wave of a wand could help them direct their power. It simply went where it was willed. It took decades for imps to master even the smallest suggestion of a nudge with their power. High Court Demons spent centuries learning the art of weaving their auras into delicate and unbreakable spells; mastering the technique that allowed them to command the aura of a mortal.

A snuffle had him freezing and glancing around the room before softly closing the lid of the trunk. He stood silently at the end of his bed for a moment before glancing down at his pale hands. His skin was as white as snow, the blood barely flowing through his veins. Being cold-blooded sucked. Although it allowed Retrievers to continue hunting no matter where their target led them, it often drew attention to them while moving through polite society.

Shower, he decided, practically drooling over the prospect of getting warm. Looking around the room one last time, he slipped from the chamber and crept down the short corridor that ran between the dorms. Blaise had pointed the bathroom out to him last night, so it was easily located and entered.

Harry knew that the tile under his feet should have been cold, that the cool air should have raised goose bumps along his skin. Curling his lips back in a silent snarl, he stalked into one of the shower stalls and spun the knob as far as it would go. Immediately water spurted from the showerhead, the first drops stingingly cold on his face. His eyes drifted shut as the temperature of the water spiked sharply and the room began to slowly fill with steam. Even as he lifted a hand to run ghostly white fingers through his hair, the lethargic beating of his heart increased, taking on a healthier tempo. His skin flushed red from the warmth of the burning water and he sighed in pleasure.

His back was pressed against the cool tile of the stall when the almost inaudible pitter-patter of feet reached him. Opening his eyes lazily, he tipped his head back and inhaled deeply. Seconds after that he exhaled sharply, clearing his nostrils of the foul smell of black magic. Running his tongue over his bottom lip, he placed a hand on the shower knob and waited for the approaching individual to creep closer.

His entire body tensed with the thrill of the hunt, senses becoming keener. The slightest brush of cloth reached his ears, each exhalation sounding like a clap of thunder. He heard the intruder run their tongue across their lips, the creak of a fingernail as they balled a hand into a fist. Opening his mouth, he drew air in over his tongue, allowing the delicate taste buds spread across its surface to pick up each trace scent that made up the smell. Black magic, jasmine, chocolate, cigarette smoke, milk, lavender, cotton, mint, and wood bombarded his lungs. Slowing his even breathing, he waited until he could hear the faint click of blood passing through veins before shutting the water off.

His long nails snagged the curtain and he tore it open, revealing the wide-eyed individual standing inches away from the swath of cloth. "You seem to be lost, little witch." Harry purred, extending a hand toward the blonde's face. He rumbled in delight as she gasped loudly and leapt back, slipping on the damp tiles and landing in a heap at his feet. Chuckling softly, the raven-haired demon lowered himself to his knees liquidly and crept forward.

"Get away from me," the witch hissed through her teeth, propelling herself across the tiles with the heels of her shoes. Her blue eyes grew wider when her back struck the piping of one of the sinks, the metal halting her retreat.

Harry hummed softly, tipping his head as he crept over the tile. A malicious grin curved his lips when the young witch jammed a hand into the pocket of her robe and began to search frantically for something. A flash of dark wood had him lunging forward and capturing her hand, slamming it forcefully back into the wall moments later. "Can't have that now, can we?" He asked innocently as the wand clattered to the floor beside them.

"Let me go," the blonde shrilled, her eyes impossibly wide. Her heart was beating too rapidly, the air rushing in and out of her lungs as she panted in fear. She swung her other hand wildly, managing to catch him in the side of the face. The growl of outrage he loosed at the crack that filled the air had her eyes rolling back in her head and her body going limp.

"Why thank you, it's just so much easier this way," marveled Harry. Pulling her carefully away from the wall, he laid her back on the tile and reached for her left arm. He rolled the sleeve of her uniform back gently, stilling when the source of the black magic that had stained her aura was revealed. An inky skull with a snake sliding from its mouth was engraved within the pale skin of her forearm, the flesh around the area an aggravated red. Sitting back on his heels, he folded his hands together and stared angrily at the mark. "My, my, someone has indeed been very busy."

Rolling his shoulders, he expanded his aura out from his body until it slid through the witch's, giving him a second look at the dark mark. His breath whistled out between his teeth as he stared at the snake and skull. The tattoo was infused with demon magic. A lot of demon magic. Extending a hand carefully, he ran a finger over the design, watching as the black magic flared at the touch of his aura. He withdrew quickly, pulling both aura and hand away from the witch. Touching his magic to the mark for an extended period of time might cause the rogue demon's aura to flare, thus alerting him to the fact that a Retriever was very close to discovering his location.

Harry rose liquidly from the floor and stepped over the limp body of the witch. He didn't know why she had been creeping around the boy's bathroom nor did he really care, he had other things to worry about. Stalking silently from the slowly cooling chamber, he stepped into the hall and froze. Tipping his head to the side, he held his breath and listened to the various sounds drifting around the dorms. When he was sure the coast was clear, he continued on his way, arriving at the sixth year dorm without conflict.

It bothered him greatly that the witch's aura was no longer fighting the dark magic. The blonde may not have been very powerful but her magic should have at least been attempting to repel the demon power. Nibbling his lower lip, he picked up the underwear Albus Dumbledore had purchased for him and sneered. He ceremoniously dropped the cloth to the stone at his feet and scooped up the pants, sliding them on quickly in hopes that the thick material would help to maintain his current body temperature. His thoughts turned back to the witch as he ran the zipper carefully up and fastened the button. Her aura seemed to have accepted the dark mark completely, as if the tattoo was weaving itself deeper into the witch's magic.

The sudden shrilling of an alarm in the silence of the room had him snarling and whirling around. His emerald eyes locked with a pair of blue orbs glittering in amusement, a small smile playing across the blond's features as he observed Harry. Taking a calming breath, the raven-haired demon smiled and tipped his head. "Good morning, Draco." Picking up the black shirt, he turned to face the wizard and carefully slid his arms through the sleeves, internally laughing at the flush that bloomed on the blond's face.

"Morning," Draco mumbled, lifting a hand and pushing his hair back off his forehead. He dragged himself from under the covers slowly, extending a hand to turn the still wailing alarm off. Shivering at the chill in the air, the blond frowned and glanced at the glowing embers currently occupying the hearth. "Why didn't you start the fire?"

"Don't you have servants to perform such a menial task?" The dark-haired demon asked softly, attentively straightening the cuffs of the shirt and popping the small buttons through the according holes.

"Good luck," Draco mumbled as he rose. Stretching his arms over his head, he slid his feet into a pair of black slippers sitting next to the bed and shuffled toward the portal. A wand appeared in his small hand and was leveled at the darkened fireplace. "The house elves here aren't quiet as respectful as the ones at home, half the time you'll find yourself performing tasks that should have been done by one of them." Shaking his head, he spoke a quick word of Latin and trudged from the room, leaving Harry to stare at the crackling blaze growing in the hearth.

Grinning, the Retriever shook his own head and tipped his chin up, inhaling deeply. He dragged the tantalizing combination of dark and light magic into his lungs, luxuriating in the way the sweet and sour tastes fought upon his tongue. Licking his lips, he closed his eyes and hummed in appreciation. The blond was a rarity. By rights, Harry should only have been able to pick up the dark magic clinging to him, the demon power having completely obliterated all traces of purity which made up a mortal's aura. Yet Draco Malfoy bore the blue aura of a healthy mortal.

He stilled at the sudden exclamation that ricocheted up the corridor and the immediate response it received. Brow drawing down, he tuned into the harried conversation while continuing the chore of matching button with correct hole. Voices rose up in worry, some of them masculine, others feminine. Glancing down the front of the shirt he was now garbed in, Harry gave a nod of satisfaction and turned away from his trunk. His eyes fell upon Blaise, the olive-skinned wizard watching him thoughtfully from the warmth of his bed.

"Do you know what's going on down the hall?" The wizard asked, his hands curling in the blankets. His expression was guarded, as if he somehow knew that Harry was partially to blame for the commotion.

"I'm afraid I don't, although I do think I shall go and take a quick peek before I head out." Harry stated, lifting the silver and green tie from amongst the covers of his bed and gracefully fleeing the room. He draped the tie around his neck, leaving the ends to dangle loose upon his chest.

Padding down the hall, he reached the crowd gathered around the doorway of the boys' bathroom and wormed his way expertly through the group until he stood at the front of the pack. Tossing a look over his shoulder, he examined the individuals who had been drawn by the ruckus. Wizards carrying towels and bathroom bags appeared uncomfortable and cold standing in the center of the bathroom, their muted murmurs displaying their unease at finding the witch within what was clearly their territory. The witches huddled together watched their dorm mate calculatingly, shouldering deeper into their damp robes and scanning the males.

The entire dramatic act was played out quite well in his opinion; especially the way the blonde witch had herself draped across Draco's lap. Clinging to the front of the blond's pajama top, the witch cried and shook and blubbered expertly. Her face was streaked with tears and her uniform was torn and ripped, the cloak she had worn lying in a puddle of water in the stall Harry had abandoned earlier. The wand he had knocked from her fingers was nowhere to be seen and at least two of her nails had been broken between the time he had left and the time she had been found.

Blue eyes widened when they fell upon him, the witch paling before she remembered the role she was supposed to be playing. "He attacked me!" She screeched, shaking finger pointed firmly in Harry's direction. Her face screwed up and she let loose a long wail, hands tangling in the soft hair at the nape of Draco's neck. "Get him away from me!"

Numerous faces turned in his direction, eyes widening as the House stared at its newest member. His temper flared at the accusation, hackles rising in indignation. "Liar!" He hissed, emerald eyes narrowing as he took a threatening step forward. Murmurs raced through the group at his claim, individuals shifting nervously away from him as he took another prowling step forward.

"I heard the shower running and thought it was Draco. You know how he's always getting up early," the blonde sobbed, using the communal 'you' so everyone would nod along in agreement. Her grip on Draco tightened as she curled closer, trying to wiggle further into his lap. "I called out and the water stopped and then he . . . he-"

Realizing that if the witch continued her performance he would be tossed out of Hogwarts or possibly arrested, Harry struck out with his aura. It was a weak blow with the barest hint of a suggestion, strong enough only to push the witch out of consciousness. He breathed a silent sigh of relief when she went limp in Draco's arms, sliding out of his lap and onto the cold floor. "I was only down here for a few minutes. I didn't even see her," he whispered softly. Pasting a horrified look on his face, he searched the crowd for believers.

The witch who had admired his tan snorted and tossed her mass of curls. "Pansy's a drama queen." She stated firmly, shaking her head and turning on her heel to stomp from the room. Nodding their heads in agreement, the group of robe and towel clad witches exited the boys' bathroom and headed back to the solace of their own.

"She probably fell and hit her head," one of the wizards standing behind Harry announced. Snorts of agreement rose up, as did several other suggestions, which were of a slightly less polite caliber. Before the group had a chance to disperse, their quiet guesses and assumptions were brought to a quick halt.

"May I ask what's going on here?" A cool voice interjected. Shuffling their feet and shooting each other wide-eyed looks, the crowd turned to face their Head of House.

Harry smiled and inhaled, the taste of demon magic sour upon his tongue. Swiveling slowly, he met the black eyes of Severus Snape, Potions Master. The pair regarded each other through narrowed eyes, ignoring the stuttered excuses and hurried explanations of why they believed Pansy Parkinson was in their bathroom. Bowing his head respectfully, the raven-haired demon fell neatly into the role of transfer student. Moving forward, he offered his hand. "I'm Harry, sir. And I must say that it's a pleasure to finally meet you."

Ignoring the proffered hand, Professor Snape glided around the young wizard and firmed his lips as he stared at the limp body of Pansy. Shaking his head, he drew his wand and cast a spell. Turning back around, he began to exit the bathroom with the blonde witch's body floating behind him. He halted in the doorway suddenly, swinging around and leveling his wand on Harry. "You, new student, await me in my office." Giving the length of wood a threatening flick, the greasy haired wizard swung around and strolled from the room.

Hiding his smirk, Harry slipped from the bathroom and watched the Professor stalk down the corridor. "My pleasure," he breathed. Pondering his chances of discreetly tossing the Professor's office and getting away with it, he turned and looked at the group gazing at him with pitied expressions on their faces. "If one of you could please guide me to Professor Snape's office, it would be most appreciated."

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A/n: Thank you to everyone who took the time to read and review!

Astral Panther - With so many ideas floating around and the web, it's very hard to come up with something completely original. Though I, as far as I know, came up with Retrievers, there are several other demon stories floating around. I'll definitely recommend fragonknight01's demon story (I've completely forgotten its name at the moment but it's an excellent read).  
JoriWinter- lol, if only it were so easy.  
Spirited Celebration - I honestly have to say I've been wanting to write a slightly evil Harry for a while now.  
PleiadesWolfe - We'll hope I manage to live up to your expectations and manage to keep this story interesting and original.  
NinjaoftheDarkness - Harry may be a demon but he's definitely not an animal. I think the seduction of Draco shall be done with much finesse.  
Disco-Dancing on the Roof - I'm glad you think I kept Dumbledore in character, as far as I'm concerned he's one of the hardest people to write.


	4. Death Eaters and Gryffindorks

DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter and all other characters and locations belong to J. K. Rowling.

**Chapter Four - Death Eaters and Gryffindorks**

Harry watched the second year Slytherin flee down the hall as if a pack of Hades finest hunting hounds were on his heels, leaving the raven-haired demon standing silently before a portrait. Smiling at the sweet taste of fear, he shifted his attention to the painting. With a small flex of his aura, he could easily be inside the office of Severus Snape. That would, however, raise questions. Deciding that remaining in the hall until the Professor returned was the best course of action, the Retriever sank to the floor and slumped gracefully against the opposite wall.

His eyes drifted closed, nostrils flaring as he breathed deeply in. The smells of the dungeon were amplified by his heightened senses. Mildew, moss, wet stone, mold, and dozens of other scents all vying for his attention. Within the maze of walls, water dripped rhythmically. Each quiet tap ringing like thunder in his ears. The approaching thud of boots brought him to his feet, dragging his eyes open and turning his head to watch as Professor Severus Snape stalked unhappily down the hall toward him. Parting his lips slightly, he inhaled, testing the scent of dark magic woven through the wizard's aura.

Severus Snape frowned angrily as he came to an abrupt stop before the younger wizard, hands tightening in the dark folds of his cloak. He looked his newest student up and down before spinning to face the entrance to his office. "Put your tie on correctly." Assuming that his order would be completed as quickly as magically possible, he stepped closer to the painting and snarled his password. The portrait creaked and began to slowly swing inwards, its movement hastened with a hard shove from the Professor.

"Yes, sir." Lifting his hands, Harry ran his fingers down the length of silk and tugged it into place. With his glowing orbs still locked on the wizard's back, he crookedly knotted the tie. Without further thought, he trailed Professor Snape into the shadowed office. His nostrils flared and his pupils dilated as a barrage of smells struck him. Crinkling his nose, he searched for the source and found himself staring at a crowded rack of glassware. Vials and jars filled with various potion ingredients were haphazardly packed together, their scents working to camouflage the smell of demon.

Sneering at the awkwardly knotted tie and the tangled mass of hair, Severus directed his newest pupil into a stiff wooden chair. "Sit," he barked. Gliding to the rack of potions, he subtly palmed a vial filled with a clear liquid and spun around. His eyes narrowed upon the raven-haired boy, fingers tightening on the thin glass bottle as he impatiently watched the young wizard stride arrogantly forward. "Hurry up, boy. We don't have all day."

Bowing his head, Harry curved his digits around the top of the chair and slowly settled himself. His eyes were hooded as he observed the professor, his chest rising and falling slowly. The urge to growl and flash teeth at the order was pushed down, curiousity consuming him as the wizard began to prepare a tray of tea. "Sorry, sir."

Smirking at the contrite expression pasted upon the young male's face, Severus carefully added several drops of veritaserum to the second cup of tea. He slid the vial into his pocket and dropped it, his fingers seeking out the worn handle of his wand. The wood slid into his palm and with a slight twitch of his wrist, the tea in the second cup swirled slowly. Smiling evilly, he carried the pair of cups toward his desk and offered one to the young wizard. "Drink this," he ordered before turning away.

Harry watched in confusion as the Professor spun and meandered toward a bookshelf, halting before the dusty tomes and lifting his cup to his mouth. Slitting his eyes, the Retriever ran a finger over the lip of his cup as the wizard turned to look at him, putting his back against the cracked spines. Shifting nervously, he lifted his own cup to his mouth and inhaled deeply. His nose tingled alarmingly at the sweet scent hidden beneath the harsh odor of peppermint; the smell completely unnoticeable to anyone without the nose of a wolf. Curling his lip, he took a tentative sip of the liquid, flicking his gaze to the professor's in an attempt to gauge his reaction. The triumphant smirk that curved the Potion Master's lips was quickly hidden by the porcelain cup, the wicked gleam in his dark eyes shielded by lowered lashes.

"Your name is Harry?" Severus Snape asked casually, propping himself up with a pointy elbow placed on an old Potions text. He took a slow swallow of tea, watching the raven-haired wizard carefully.

"Yes," Harry answered carefully. The realization that his lips and gums were slowly going numb had him calmly placing the teacup on the desk before him and sliding forward in his seat. He ran his tongue over his lips, fighting down the urge to throw up the small amount of drugged tea he had unwittingly consumed.

"And your last name?" Snape asked, beginning the interrogation in earnest. Gliding forward, he paced slowly toward the younger male, eagerly awaiting his response. His prowl was brought to a halt when blazing emeralds were raised slowly, narrowing dangerously upon him. "Your last name?" He asked more forcefully, shuffling in place as the dark-haired wizard shook his head.

Clenching his jaw, Harry shook his head in an attempt to shake off the affects of the tea. His mind wanted to answer the question, his response already curving his lips even as he fought the compulsion. Focusing his mind, he closed his eyes and drew upon his powers. The magic that was uniquely his rose up and consumed him, pushing through his body and burning away anything that didn't belong within his flesh. When the rush faded, the urge was gone, replaced with anger and a burning need for revenge.

"Your little trick will not work on me, Severus Snape." Purred Harry, rising gracefully to his feet and closing the distance between them in a few short strides. Tipping his head to the side, he breathed in slowly and savored the sour taste of demon magic wafting from the wizard's skin. He leaned closer, pressing his face into the crook of the Potions Master's neck and giving a lightning quick swipe of his tongue. Glass shattered as the teacup the professor had held struck the floor, the small shards skittering across the stone. A wand tip appeared suddenly against his temple, the hard point indenting the pale skin in a threatening touch.

Face twisted in a scowl of disgust and outrage, Severus increased the pressure on the wand while swiping at the damp spot on his neck. "How dare you?" He snarled, giving another forceful jab with the wand. Stepping backwards, he took a deep breath and narrowed his eyes. "I don't know what school you attended before Hogwarts but that little . . . that was completely unacceptable." Gritting his teeth, he shifted his fingers on the wand within his hand and took a slow step backwards.

Smiling tauntingly, Harry slid backwards and held his empty hands out before him. He wiggled his fingers, waiting patiently for the wand to be completely withdrawn. His breathing slowed and his pupils dilated in preparation for attack, the aura surrounding him flaring. "And your little addition to my tea wasn't?" The widening of the professor's eyes had him chuckling softly and tipping his head to the side. "Of course, had you offered me sugar I might not have noticed." The taste of black magic and demon was ripe upon his tongue, souring his mouth and breath.

Jaw dropping in shock, Severus stared at the raven-haired youth. "I did no such thing," he gasped. Clenching his wand, he circled Harry slowly and backed toward his desk, putting the dark wooden table between them. The white glow cast from the candles perched precariously about the room did little to chase back the shadows creeping in on him; thin tendrils of darkness stretching toward the trailing end of his cloak.

"Ah, but you did." Harry purred, slinking into the thickening shadows. He shifted through the darkness, easing around a copper cauldron and stepping lightly over a dust covered tome. As he moved, the shadows clung to him, wrapping themselves around him in a concealing blanket. "Perhaps your hand just slipped?" He offered suggestively from a corner, his voice no more than a whisper. The fingers of his right hand drifted over to the silver band wrapped around his left wrist, running over the charms dangling from the metal. Focusing his gaze on the candle resting right behind the greasy-haired wizard, he exhaled smoothly and smirked as the flame died suddenly.

The sudden death of the candle perched almost directly behind him had Severus wheeling around and leveling his wand on the heavy shadows. "What do you want?" His voice was overly loud in the silence, the suspicion easily heard. Gritting his teeth as he waited for a response, he narrowed his eyes.

Smiling in triumphant, Harry silently congratulated himself. "Upon your forearm is a tattoo; a skull with a snake sliding from its mouth. I wish to know who it belongs to." The shock on the wizard's face was laughable, as was the way his widened eyes leapt to where the aforementioned mark was hidden. Gliding free of the shadows, he tipped his chin back and pushed up his sleeves. "Who placed that mark within your flesh, Severus Snape?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." The Professor hissed, glancing around the room in an agitated manner. Without thinking, he adjusted the cuff of his robes, pulling the cloth down as far as it would go. The knowing look that slid across the raven-haired boy's face had him freezing, his hand falling away from the cloth. "Get out."

Hissing unhappily, Harry hunched his shoulders. He took a prowling step forward before halting, the Headmaster's firm words and rules flicking through his mind. Ducking his head, he flashed his sparking orbs at the wizard before returning to the shadows. "As you wish, Professor Snape." Halting just within the portal, he rested his palm upon the wood and peered over his shoulder. "You cannot lie to me and I will have my answer. Should you suddenly develop a sense of preservation, I suggest you seek me out." With that said, he pushed through the door and stepped out into the welcoming shadows.

As soon as the portrait thudded closed behind him, he let loose a grumbling snarl. His eyes were narrowed in anger, his shoulders hunched aggressively as he strode down the dungeon passage. Giving a rasping hiss, the raven-haired demon stretched his arms out, allowing the tips of his fingers to graze the damp walls. He expanded his aura sharply, sending it pulsing through the walls and slamming into the castle's wards. Emerald orbs flashed as the broiling magic warred with the castle's ingrained defenses, pressing and seeking any quarter. As they had last night, Hogwart's ancient wards rose up and overwhelmed him, shoving his wavering magic back into his aura where it belonged.

Cursing loudly, he let his hands fall back to his sides and rubbed the tips of his fingers against the rough cloth of the pants he wore, erasing the burning sensation coursing through the digits. He reached the section of wall that hid the Slytherin dorms and tipped his head, standing quietly as he listened for Draco's voice among the buzzing whispers. Seconds later he straightened and pursed his lips before shaking his head and sniffing delicately. A smile bloomed upon his lips as he found Draco's scent intertwined with several others. With little thought to the task he was supposed to be performing, he followed the wafting trail. He wound his way through the maze of halls, his nose lifted and his nostrils flared.

The number and volume of voices increased as he climbed the heavy stone stairs that led upward from the bowels of the castle. Competing with the clamour of voices was the overwhelming press of magic. Auras flared as he slipped around students, their magic responding to his proximity and powers. His very presence seemed to be unnerving to many of the students, clearing him a path and easing his way through the crush of bodies. He unerringly followed Draco's scent, finally finding the blond standing with his arms crossed arrogantly over his chest with three other students. The three were not of Slytherin House; where Harry's robes were green and silver, the trio wore red and gold.

Gliding forward smoothly, he came up behind Draco and halted next to him, observing the three individuals angrily blocking the blond's path. His arrival increased the building tension, making the trio shift nervously and glance over their shoulders. "Draco," he greeted softly, folding his arms across his chest and widening his stance. "Is everything alright?" The barely veiled threat was accompanied with a narrow eyed glare.

Draco arched a sliver of an eyebrow and shot the raven-haired wizard an amused smirk. Lifting one pale hand, he indicated the two wizards and witch. "Allow me to introduce you, Harry, to the Gryffindorks." His haughty drawl had the trio gasping in outrage and narrowing their eyes, their wands shakily leveled at the blond's chest.

"Shut up, Malfoy " The redhead snapped, his face flushing the same brilliant shade as his hair. Teeth gritted, the wizard shifted his wand and leveled it at Harry's chest. "Another Death Eater? I don't know what Dumbledore was thinking when he agreed to let him stay. He should have sent him crawling home like the snake he is."

"That's actually quite amusing, especially since it's coming from the mouth of a Weasel." Draco purred, tilting his head and chuckling lightly when the redhead screwed his face up and took an angered step forward. After listening to the red and gold draped wizard sputter for several seconds, the blond offered the bushy-haired witch a condescending look and shook his head. "I really thought you had him better trained than this, mudblood."

The witch gasped, her face paling. Beside her, the plump wizard firmed his lips and shook his head. "Don't call her that, Malfoy " His voice was shaky but the tip of his wand remained steadily pointed at Draco's chest.

"Oh? And what are you going to do about it, Longbottom?" Draco questioned tauntingly, swirling his dark robes slightly. Moving his innocently widened eyes back to the redhead, the blond arched an eyebrow. "Not going to stick up for your girlfriend?"

"Ferret!" The redhead hissed, lunging forward and swinging wildly at the blond's face. The wand he held was seemingly forgotten, falling from his hand as he lurched forward. His clenched fist was caught centimeters from Draco's nose, the hand wrapped around his wrist tightening slowly. Mouth hanging open in shock, he tugged futilely against the grip as his gaze traveled up the arm. When he found himself peering into flashing emeralds, he gave a small shrug and balled his other hand up, sending it flying toward the raven-haired male's face.

"Ron !" The plump wizard yelped, bumbling forward. He was brought to an abrupt stop when the tip of a wand materialized in front of him, the point directed unwaveringly at his right eye.

Pushing the wand closer to the wizard's dilated pupil, the blond shook his head in warning. "Don't move." He ordered, turning his head to watch the brawl. His amusement over the entire situation was obvious; excitement and glee making his blue orbs dance and shimmer.

Harry bit back a snarl as the redhead's fist slammed into his jaw. Shaking the blow off, he spun on his heel and gave the taller wizard a hard shove, sending him careening into the nearest wall. Before the wizard could recover, he wrapped his hand around his throat and pinned him against the gray stone. "That wasn't very nice," he breathed. Running his tongue along the inside of his mouth, he carefully probed the damaged flesh. The sweet coppery taste of blood had him frowning and increasing the pressure of his hold, lifting the redhead's feet slowly from the floor.

"Put him down " The witch cried, brandishing her wand. Her eyes were wide and her breathing was overly fast, her robes stirring as she vibrated with fear. Seeing that the newest Slytherin had no intention of listening to her demands, she drew a deep breath and flicked her wand.

The cool brush of magic along his spine had Harry flinching and glancing over his shoulder, his moment of inattention allowing the redhead a chance to sock him directly in the ear. Snarling as pain erupted in his skull, the raven-haired demon released the wizard and reeled away, pressing his hand to side of his head. His eardrum reverberated from the blow, the pain consuming him as the trio fled to safety. By the time he was able to open his eyes, the hall was empty save him and Draco. "May Hades take your soul," he hissed between his teeth, cradling his ear. Gritting his teeth, he tugged experimentally on the lobe.

"Are you alright? I didn't actually think he'd be stupid enough to hit you." The blond said, stopping next to him and resting a hand on his shoulder. He pulled Harry's hand away from his ear and carefully inspected the obviously stinging appendage. Frowning, he shook his head and stepped back. "It looks okay."

Harry nodded even as he straightened, rolling his shoulders to ease the stiffness from them. He blew a calming breath out between his teeth and began to fix the robes he wore. His ears were extremely sensitive and even the lightest blow applied to the side of his head had the potential to do serious internal damage. Though he could still hear a faint ringing, he was able to make out the burble and buzz of voices across the castle. "It's fine."

"I could have handled them without your assistance," Draco said, his voice tinged with annoyance. "Weasley's too stupid to remember how to use his wand and Granger's afraid to break the rules."

"I'll remember that for next time," murmured Harry.

"See that you do," Draco sniffed, leading the way down the hall.

Falling in next to the blond, he replayed everything that had just happened and frowned. He knew enough about the wizard culture to pass among them but the part of the conversation he had arrived for had him confused. Glancing at the blond, he pursed his lips. "Tell me, Draco, what exactly is a Death Eater?" Harry asked casually, continuing to stroll forward even though the blond had come to an abrupt stop. He arched an eyebrow and glanced over his shoulder, a sense of triumph filling him as he stared into the horrified blue orbs focused on him. Stopping, he spun slowly on his heels and crossed his arms, his hand cupping the silver bracelet. The charms slid between his fingers, the metal cool and soothing. When the silver hunting hound came to rest between his thumb and index finger, he stilled.

"Pardon?" Draco hissed between his teeth, glancing around the empty hall. When the raven-haired demon calmly repeated the question, the blond stared at him before slowly beginning to shake his head. "Who are you?"

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A/n: Thank you to everyone who took the time to read and review. I apologize for the wait but I've been very busy. Over the past few weeks, I've moved in with two of my best friends and purchased a ferret. Braxton keeps me very busy but his arrival has returned me to the computer and my stories.

WhiteDragonShiro - Harry dosen't know who the demon he's looking for is, but we all know that it is Voldemort. Neither Snape or Malfoy is a demon, their auras have just been contaminated with dark demon magic from acquiring the Dark Mark and being in Voldies presence.  
sbkar - I don't really know why I write Draco with blue eyes. I think I started writing him with gray eyes in APH but then someone told me had blue eyes and ever since then I've been sticking with that.  
SlytherGirl - Harbinger is now my primary fic and I should begin to update more frequently.  
Intrepid Archer - Given the chance, wouldn't you check Harry out?


	5. The Balm of Dresden

DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter and all other characters and locations belong to J. K. Rowling.

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**Chapter Five - The Balm of Dresden**

Harry considered the question thoughtfully, tipping his head to the side and chewing his bottom lip. Who was he? A simple question to answer really, though his response might send the blond running for his life. He was Harold James Potter, Retriever Demon extraordinaire. There wasn't a demon in hell who could outmaneuver him, or on earth for that matter. His skills were legendary, his tact unrivaled. And he certainly wasn't about to lose his much coveted reputation over a human male. Smiling softly, he shook his head and resumed his forward march, leaving the wide-eyed wizard staring after him.

His arrival in the Great Hall brought silence to the students gathered within, turning heads and closing mouths. Halting just inside the doorway, he tipped his head back and scanned the crowd. Witches and wizards gaped at him, horrified looks appearing on many faces as they took in his new attire. The silver and green uniform he sported caused a wave of terrified whispers. Death Eater was hissed loudly by some brave soul, the word ricocheting around the vast chamber. Shifting his gaze to the staff table, the raven-haired demon met thoughtful blue orbs and arched an eyebrow.

Dumbledore rose slowly, his arms held aloft as the soft hisses grew in volume. Frowning when the student population failed to fall silent, he withdrew his wand and placed it against his throat. "Silence." The word was softly spoken, only the amplification charm allowing it to be heard by everyone throughout the Great Hall. Heads turned at the severe tone in the old wizard's voice, eyes widening at the sight of the Headmaster patiently waiting for their attention. Nodding in satisfaction, Albus gestured Harry forward. "I would like you all to meet Harry. Harry is a transfer student who will be staying with us at Hogwarts for a short period of time before moving on to Durmstrang."

Harry lifted one of his hands in a small wave, his watchful eyes resting on the Headmaster. He shifted uncomfortably under the eyes of the entire school, his left hand clenching into a fist at his side. Deciding to make the most of the moment, he stretched his aura outward. His breathing slowed as his vision changed to accommodate his expanded aura, pupils dilating until they were nothing more than slivers of black in a sea of green. Reds, blues, golds, and greens flared under the touch of his magic, sparking and dancing around the nervous students. A few of the bright colours were marred by angry streaks of black; the dark lines slicing through the seemingly healthy magic. A puff of air slid past his lips as he swivelled his head and scanned the table where the Slytherins sat in reserved silence. Demon magic broiled around them, completely encompassing the long table in a cloud of black.

"I would like you all to make his stay with us as enjoyable as possible. Please feel free to answer any questions he might have," Dumbledore directed calmly. The old wizard ran his tired gaze over the four houses, seeking any sign of challenge or rebellion. When the students all remained silent, he nodded and shifted his gaze back to Harry. His lips pursed as his eyes landed on the back of the young demon's head. "Thank you all and enjoy your breakfast."

Glancing back at the raised staff table, the raven-haired retriever found himself peering into wide blue eyes. The slight hitch of an eyebrow had him bowing his head in acknowledgment before turning and gliding toward the Slytherin table. His eyes met Draco's and he dropped his gaze, focusing on the worn stone beneath his boots. Without speaking, he seated himself beside Blaise, ignoring the startled gasp emitted by the young witch perched to the right of him.

Crinkling his nose at the smells drifting from the bowls and plates piled upon the table, he reached for a steaming teapot and hooked a finger through the handle of a clean teacup. His green orbs slid over the table's occupants, picking out any familiar faces as he gracefully poured himself a cup of tea.

The sudden displacement of air above his head had him snapping his chin upward, lips pulling back in a silent growl. His right hand rose to strike at the fluttering bird, fingers freezing in mid-swipe when someone let out a screech of protest. Sinking the nails of his left hand into the edge of the table, he lowered his other hand and eyed the bird suspiciously. He tensed as the barn owl landed on the scarred wood of the table, fluttering wings causing ripples in his tea. Shooting him an offended look, the bird offered him one of its taloned feet.

"It's your schedule," Blaise stated quietly, arching an eyebrow at the other wizard's strange behaviour. Shaking his head, he set his fork down and reached toward the owl, quickly removing the roll of parchment from its leg. As soon as the owl was free of its burden, it hooted angrily and shot into the air, joining the dozens of other feathered messengers ghosting above the crowded tables.

Narrowing his eyes at the smirking wizard, Harry snatched the extended slip of paper from his short fingers and curled a lip in a silent snarl. Before anyone had a chance to remark on his strange behaviour, he swung around and picked up his teacup. He unrolled the parchment with a flick of his wrist, lying it upon the table and pinning it there with the tips of his fingers. As his eyes drifted over the carefully scribed schedule, he set his cup down and reached for the small pitcher of milk sitting in the center of the table. His hand stilled over the dark liquid when Professor Snape's stern voice broke the quiet murmurs of the students.

"You have the same classes as us," Blaise observed loudly, pushing his dirty plate away and leaning forward so he could better read the schedule lying upon the table. The olive-skinned wizard shot the blond perched across from him a knowing look, frowning when the blond merely scowled and shook his head, obviously in no mood for the other wizard's mind games.

Making a noncommital noise and ignoring the silent byplay going on between the two, Harry locked his gaze on the greasy-haired wizard and licked his lips. A fierce smile twisted his features as the Professor shot him a warning look, fingers stained with the juices of herbs and weeds tightening on the golden flatware. Giving a rumbling chuckle, the raven-haired demon rubbed his forearm tauntingly. The slight twitch of the Professor's gritted jaw had him tipping his head in acknowledgment and raising his teacup in an empty salute.

"What are you laughing at?" One of the wizard's sitting across from him hissed, suspicion colouring the words.

"Theodore, be nice." Scolded Blaise, shooing the other wizard away with a graceful flick of his wrist. He arched a perfectly sculpted eyebrow when Nott bared his teeth in a display of anger, calmly slipping his wand free of his sleeve and placing it on the table before him. The subtle movement drew the eyes of the entire long table, halting the Slytherins in the chewing of their breakfast as they waited to see what would happen. A bell began to toll within the castle, causing the posturing wizard's to jump and break eye contact. The loud sound emptied the four tables, sending the students scurrying for the large double doors clutching books, bags, and half eaten pieces of food.

Blaise and Draco rose fluidly, their movement drawing Harry to his feet as if the three were connected by invisible strings. Indicating that the raven-haired male should follow, the pair strolled leisurely down the aisle between two of the tables, sneering and pushing aside smaller students as they went. In their wake, Harry followed silently, his black robe and cloak remaining still about his body. The Retriever was slightly surprised when he was led back into the depths of the dungeons and guided into a dank room that reeked of potion ingredients and burning wood.

He eyed the students sitting nervously on the opposite side of room, their gold and red ties and robes marking them as Gryffindors. Taking the seat directly behind Draco, he turned to watch the door. His jaw clenched when the three students who had attacked him and Draco in the hall less then an hour ago came sailing through the door, books held tightly to their chests. The quick looks they shot him as they passed had his mouth watering: they were afraid of him, and it turned him on. Running his tongue over his lips and savouring their terror, he watched as the trio took their seats and began to settle themselves.

"Books out, wands away." Snape snapped, slamming through the single door at the back of the room and stalking toward the dusty blackboard. The trailing ends of his robe fluttered behind him, lapping against the legs of the desks he passed. When he reached the front of the dingy chamber, he whirled around and ran his eyes over the quiet group, his jaw noticeably firming as his gaze landed on Harry. His wand appeared in his hand with a sharp flick of his wrist, the movement causing the raven-haired youth to tense and the assembled students to gasp. "Today we will be brewing the Balm of Dresden. Do any of you small-minded fools know what that is?"

Visibly straightening in his chair, Harry's emerald eyes widened. In a flash, the bright orbs narrowed. He knew of the Balm of Dresden, he knew it very well. His nails raked carelessly over the top of the table, effortlessly slicing through the dark wood. Inhaling deeply, he cringed and choked, barely resisting the urge to bury his nose in the long sleeve of his robe. An upraised hand on the far side of the class had sneers and obnoxious snorts slipping from the mouths of the Slytherins, the sounds halted by Snape's upthrust hand.

"Granger, seeing as no one else seems to have read ahead, why don't you enlighten your classmates." The Potions Professor purred, prowling along the outer perimeter of the classroom. Rolling his eyes as the Gryffindor witch drew a deep breath and prepared to launch into a lengthy and long-winded spiel, the greasy-haired wizard perched himself on the corner of his cluttered desk and locked eyes with the raven-haired youth.

Harry's mind raced as he turned his eyes to the bushy-haired witch. How had the man managed to put the pieces together so quickly? He was certain that he hadn't done anything to give himself away, well, besides the licking and threatening. His tongue fluttered along the inside of his mouth, absently testing the points of his sharpest teeth. Perhaps it was a coincidence . . .

"The Balm of Dresden was developed by Lindin Dresden in 1579. Dresden created the Balm to ward off demons that sought to possess witches and wizards. Its usefulness and power was never tested due to a lack of . . . test subjects. The ingredients used to make the Balm of Dresden were chosen based upon their ability to repel demons. Liquid Iron, salt, holly, and ash were four of the more powerful ingredients. All articles found in today's literature would suggest that Dresden was, for lack of a better phrase, 'off his rocker'. Little proof exists that demons are actually real and nothing more than a figment of myth." Hermione Granger finished proudly, sitting calmly back in her chair and folding her hands. Smirking at their housemate's answer, the surrounding Gryffindors exchanged high-fives and triumphant grins.

Harry let out long breath, his eyes shifting back to the scowling wizard now standing in front of the blackboard wielding a piece of chalk. The realization that he would have to sit through the brewing of the balm made his palms tingle and bile creep up his throat. He slid deeper into his chair and lifted a hand to rake long nails through shaggy hair. Already the sickly sweet smell of Liquid Iron was working its way into his system, turning his usually sleek movements into sluggish imitations of their usual grace.

Dresden had not been as crazed as everyone thought him to be. Rather, the wizard was a genius and seen as such by most individuals of the demon culture. His ramblings and writings were based upon a brief stint spent with four subclass demons after an apparation accident, but the wizarding world didn't need to know that. After his return to the mortal plane, the wizard had created a formula that he knew would send most demons scurrying back to their master's heels. The subclass demons involved in the incident would spend the rest of eternity as decorations in Hades throne room.

A piping voice broke his concentration, returning his attention to the witch currently waving a hand around above her head. He couldn't help but appreciate Snape's unhappy glower as he turned from writing upon the board, the wizard's obvious anger over the interruption very visible. Hadn't the witch already said everything there was to say?

"Why are we brewing a potion that is relatively useless and deemed as such by the Ministry of Magic? The Balm of Dresden serves no purpose and there are dozens of other potions we could be brewing that are more educational in nature." Hermione asked, her question causing moans of disbelief and horror to spill from the mouths of her friends.

"Seeing as your housemates have failed to brew even the easiest of potions, Miss Granger, I felt it was time to try something . . . simpler." The Potions Master snarled, dropping the chalk onto his desk and moving away from the blackboard. "You are to work in your assigned pairs. Weasley, seeing as Thomas has failed to make an appearance, you will be working with the newest member of my House."

"But Professor-"

"And don't question my authority, Miss Granger." Snape snarled. The greasy-haired wizard shot Harry a victorious smirk, lacing his fingers together and watching as the students rose quietly and began to organize themselves. His triumph was short lived as the raven-haired male gave a wide smile, revealing teeth that were sharper than normal.

Rising fluidly was out of the question, the scent of Liquid Iron making even the simplest gesture appear like the intoxicated fumbling of a drunk. Drawing air in between his teeth, Harry placed a hand on the top of the desk and pushed himself slowly to his feet. He wavered slightly before locking his knees and swivelling in the direction of the wide-eyed redhead. His aura crackled angrily around him, fighting desperately to eliminate all traces of the drug slowly poisoning his bloodstream. Retrievers were built to withstand the strongest of demons and the coldest of days, expose them to Liquid Iron however, and they would react like a mortal having an allergic reaction. Unlike a human, he wouldn't need to receive treatment. Within minutes of leaving the area, the poison would dissipate and leave his system.

"I'll get the ingredients," the redhead mumbled, fleeing Harry's presence before the dark-haired demon had a chance to seat himself.

Harry took the redhead's absence to choose the safer looking stool, lowering himself cautiously onto the four legged contraption. He eyed the beat up cauldron perched on the table before him, taking in the slashes and rust spots slowly emerging on the metal. Shaking his head, he lifted his gaze to the front of the room and found Professor Snape's dark eyes resting firmly on him. The wizard stiffened under his glare, shoulders tensing and fingers balling into tight fists. It was the watchful look on the wizard's face that had him slowly relaxing, muscles loosening and nails sliding free of the hard wood. He didn't know. The Potions Master had only been testing a theory, trying to figure out if Harry's earlier display of power could be explained.

Smiling smugly, Harry slowed the pumping of his heart and the intake of air into his lungs. He couldn't stop the Liquid Iron from poisoning his system but he could slow its effects. Glassware clanked loudly next to him, forcing him to pull his gaze away from the greasy-haired wizard. A vial rolled off the small pile of herbs the redhead had dropped in the center of the table, lazily making its way toward the Retriever's splayed fingers. The liquid inside was a silvery white, shimmering as it rocked back in forth inside its container.

"Where's your book?" Ron demanded, plopping onto the stool across from the raven-haired Slytherin. He paled under the sparking emerald orbs, gulping and yanking his own text from his stained book bag. Slamming it down on the table, he flipped it open and found the correct page, pretending to read the instructions while studiously ignoring the other wizard.

Shrugging his shoulders at the deliberate snub, Harry crossed his arms on the desk before him and observed the quietly working students. Some of the pairs had already started brewing the potion while others were glaring at each other with contempt in their eyes. He could already see the dynamics of the class and school at work: the Slytherins hated the Gryffindors and vice versa. Musing over the little tidbit, he jerked around when a squeak of terror and shattering glass broke the silence of the room.

"LongBottom, you insufferable fool!" Draco shrieked, pushing away from the desk and falling backwards. A thick black smoke began to rise from the cauldron, swirling dangerously above the table. Pale eyes widening as he realized what was about to happen, the blond lifted an arm to shield his orbs.

Harry lunged the short distance, pupils dilating as the tang of Liquid Iron spiked. His arm swept around the blond wizard's waist, halting his fall and screening him from the impending blast. Tensing in preparation for the deadly shower, the Retriever shuddered and gagged, his eyes watering. With a resounding boom, the cauldron exploded, its contents splattering across the startled faces of the students.

"Ten points from Gryffindor!" Barked Snape, waving his wand and banishing the thick haze that hovered over room. His nose was pinched in distaste, the hand holding his wand shaking in anger. Sweeping the room with a furious look, he stalked to where Draco and Longbottom had been working and froze. Lying unconscious upon his godson's still form was Harry. "Clear this room immediately I want ten inches on the Balm of Dresden completed and on my desk before class begins tomorrow. Weasley, Granger, escort Longbottom to the Infirmary and inform Pomfrey another student will be arriving shortly." Shaking his head in disgust, he bent over and placed a cold hand on the back of the young wizard's neck. He drew back slowly at the sight of small burn marks, eyes widening as thin wisps of smoke escaped the injuries.

"Professor?" Draco asked from his place beneath the larger wizard. He shoved at the raven-haired wizard's limp body, attempting to slide free of the dead weight. Sighing with relief when his godfather heaved Harry off of him, he wiggled free and stood shakily. Both wizards stood looking down at the still form of the new student, their eyes narrowed in thought. Finally, Draco raised his gaze and met the dark eyes of Severus Snape. "There's something not quite right about him, isn't there?"

Nodding slowly, Snape waved his wand and stepped back as Harry's body floated neatly into the air. Shooting a quick look at the wizard's lax face, he turned and left the room, the young male's hovering body trailing after him.

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A/n: Thank you to everyone who took the time to read and review. While nothing to exciting happened in this chapter, the next two should be very interesting.

hieisdragoness18 - lol, yep, Harry licked Snape. I thought about naming him Draco but it just didn't seem right, he needed a name that was uniquely his own ( I also stopped to think about how many ferrets had been named Draco since the release of GoF and cringed, they never really stood a chance.) So, I named him Braxton.

PaddyWaddy - Nope, see above review.

TorringMay - I am indeed enjoying my new home and my little buddy. Glad you're enjoying this story and hopefully I'll get back to my usual posting schedule soon.

SlytherGirl - Why, thank you.

krista-Shadow - Usually he is faster then a normal wizard but under those circumstances he was slowed, due to both injury and distraction.

PleiadesWolfe- Perhaps, though the simplest slip of a tongue could give him everything he needs.

Disco-Dancing on the Roof - I tried to not make Harry seem so God like but it was hard. His second and final (or is it?) weakness was revealed in this chapter, though I have important reasons for his trip to the hospital


	6. A Raven in the Room

DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter and all other characters and locations belong to J. K. Rowling. **

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Angered voices drew Harry slowly from the darkness that had consumed him. He sucked in a deep breath and winced, freezing as fingers of pain clawed their way up his spine. Hissing softly, he opened one eye and stared at the white wall in front of him. Somewhere behind him, liquid sloshed and metal scraped. The quick shuffle of feet had him inhaling deeply and combing through the strong smells in search of the individual moving around at the end of the room. When his nose failed to identify the mortal, he tensed his muscles and prepared to defend himself.

"I've never seen such a terrible reaction to Liquid Iron," a woman's harried voice stated into the silence. The announcement was followed by the clank of metal and the soft patter of feet.

"I demand that he be removed from my presence "

Harry shuddered at the screech, fisting his hands in the starched sheets of the bed. Tipping his head to the side, he shot an annoyed look at the witch sitting primly on the cot across from him. Wearing pale pink silk pajamas, the drama queen appeared to be in perfect health. He curled a lip as the witch's face began to redden, her blue eyes slowly narrowing as the older woman continued to ignore her. His eyes slipped closed as one of the double doors swung open and Severus Snape came striding in carrying a black velvet bag. Exhaling quietly, he listened to the wizard stalk past the foot of his bed, the jingle of glass accompanying his every step. When the dull thud of boots halted, he allowed his eyes to drift slowly open.

"My father-"

"Why are you still here, Miss Parkinson? I released you an hour ago." The older witch snapped, lifting her gaze from the metal tray she was fussing with. Shaking her head as the young blonde huffed and put her little nose in the air, she scooped up the tray and stormed toward Harry's silent form. "I suggest you head back to your dorm and change before proceeding to class, Miss Parkinson." Shooting a quick look over her shoulder, the gray-haired woman arched an eyebrow before turning her attention back to the tray she held.

As she neared where he lay silently listening to the conversation, Harry stiffened and lowered his eyelashes, partially shielding his gleaming orbs. He kept his breathing slow and even, turning his attention to the strange smells that filled the room. The air was cleaner in the long room then in the dank dungeon, the temperature almost bearable. His nostrils flared and scrunched with every deep breath he took, pulling in the tang of mint and antibiotics. Muscles tensing as the air around him shifted, the raven-haired demon sank needle like nails into the mattress beneath him. Glass clanked as metal was thumped down somewhere near his feet, the sound informing him that the witch was preparing to tend his burned back.

"What exactly happened, Severus? I asked Neville Longbottom but he all he said was 'potions accident'. Now, if only Miss Granger would follow his example." Murmured the female, beginning the careful process of removing his robes without causing further damage. The dark cloth seemed to dissolve away, revealing his burned back to the witch's eyes. A gasp of horror followed the disappearance of his clothes. "Are you sure this was done by Liquid Iron?"

"Of course it was done by Liquid Iron," Snape snarled, stalking forward. "Longbottom added the salt before the shredded leaves of Ash."

"Oh, dear." The woman mumbled.

The murmured words were followed by the light brush of fingers over his left shoulder blade and the back of his neck, the cool digits soothing over his injured skin. Making a soft tsking noise, the witch withdrew her hand and reached for the wand tucked into the top of her skirt. Harry rolled his eyes as he watched the woman through lowered lashes, internally laughing over the way she hoisted her wand and gave it a tentative wave before tightening her grip and carefully casting a complex charm. As soon as she went silent, a cool rush of magic swept over him. Goosebumps rose on his arms and legs as his aura flexed and fought against the searching magic, attempting to force it away from his body. The sensation faded suddenly, leaving his magic churning angrily around his still form.

"Well, what's wrong with him?" The greasy-haired professor demanded, prowling the length of the room. His robes hissed and swished behind him, fluttering over the uneven stone as he paced. Impatience had him turning and planting his hands on his hips in a commanding gesture, waiting for the witch to answer his question.

The raven-haired demon subtly rolled his head to look at the matronly woman standing beside the bed he occupied, his face remaining relaxed as if he were still unconscious. His jaw clenched as the witch frowned and lifted the roll of parchment she held, her narrowed eyes sweeping over the information it contained. Before he had a chance to ponder her concerned look, the sound of someone approaching the double doors had him closing his eyes and giving a small smile.

"According to my scan, nothing." Said the gray-haired nurse, squinting as she peered at the results of the magical scan. Seconds later she gave a soft gasp, her grip on the parchment increasing so much that the paper crinkled and tore. Shaking her head slowly, she raised her gaze and looked at the Potions Professor. "This can't be right. His heart rate and blood pressure . . . they're much to low. If this is right, he shouldn't even be alive. No witch or wizard, or muggle for that matter, could survive with a heart beat this slow. It's just not possible."

"You did it wrong. Do it again." Snape ordered, just as the doors swung open and Albus Dumbledore came gliding into the room. Snapping his mouth closed, the Professor turned quickly and watched anxiously as his mentor approached the body lying silently upon the narrow bed.

"There'll be no need for any further tests, Poppy." The old wizard said softly, his quiet footsteps halting at the bottom of Harry's bed. "Severus, please return to your classroom. I believe the fifth year Ravenclaws are growing bored in your absence and beginning to eye the supply closet."

Paling, the Potions Professor gave a brief nod and headed toward the door. "Thank you, Albus." He said as he swept from the Infirmary, black robes billowing out behind him.

Smiling faintly as he watched the wizard vanish down the long hall, Dumbledore turned and stared at Harry's still form. Lifting his blue orbs, he reached out and rested a hand on the brass footboard. "Poppy, I believe your presence is no longer required." His knuckles whitened as the witch gaped at him, her face reddening as she was ordered from her rightful domain.

Scowling, she gave a sharp nod that had the little cap she wore sliding forward, her hands dropping to clench in the thick skirts she wore. "Certainly, sir." She was halfway to her small office when a noise stopped her in her tracks and had her whirling around. Gritting her teeth as she stared at the empty palm held out toward her, she sighed and stomped back to the old wizard's side. "Here," she grumbled as she thrust the tiny roll of parchment into his hand. Swinging around, she charged unhappily toward her office, one hand rising to push at the awkwardly seated hat. The door of the office slammed closed behind the witch, the narrow pane of glass rattling in the thick door.

"I don't suppose you'd care to enlighten me as to why Miss Parkinson was found on the floor of the boys' bathroom," Dumbledore said slowly as he began to pace the length of the room. He trailed his fingers over the brass bars of the beds as he passed, the metal rasping softly under his touch. Glancing over his shoulder as he reached the far end of the room, he arched an eyebrow and turned.

Rising liquidly from the bed, Harry stretched slowly and rolled his shoulders. He wiggled his fingers as he moved toward his folded clothes, shooting the old wizard a look out of the corner of his eye. "Miss Parkinson, I imagine, was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Though one does wonder what she was doing in that particular bathroom." Scooping up his trousers, he slid into them leisurely and did up the zipper. His eyes narrowed when the air around him stirred, magic attempting to rise subtly and failing. Hands balling into fists, he wheeled around and hissed, unprepared for the sudden bubble of magic that settled over him. A shriek of pure anger slipped from his mouth, his fists rising to slam uselessly against the magic.

Watching silently as the dark-haired youth growled and tried to pierce the magic ball with the tips of his fingers, Albus shook his head and sighed tiredly. "You're here only because I allow it, Harry." He reminded, blue eyes widening when a long sword materialized in the raven-haired demon's hand. Dried blood clung to the metal, small pieces flaking off as the weapon was hefted in warning. Dumbledore stumbled back when the blade was brought down heavily, connecting with the glowing sphere that encircled the young male. In a bright flash, the trapping spell collapsed.

Swinging his sword angrily, Harry stalked forward. "Just remember, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, you're living only because I allow it." He halted a short distance away from the gray-bearded wizard, his fingers clenching and unclenching upon the iron hilt of the sword. In a studied effort, he slowed his breathing and allowed the tip of the sword to swing downward and rest upon the floor. The metal grated against the pale stone and flecks of old blood drifted slowly to the ground.

"You yourself said that if I ordered you to leave, you'd go." Albus stated, his words filled with doubt. Behind his glasses, his blue eyes shone with worry. The light weight of his wand in his pocket was a small comfort.

Harry twisted the hilt of the sword, grinding the tip of the blade deeper into the stone at his toes. He chuckled and shook his head, a small grin curving his lips. "Those were just pleasantries. I told you exactly what you wanted to hear and in return was given what I wanted. You forget who I am. I am a demon; a finger on the devil's left hand." The last was said smugly. Swinging the sword up to rest upon his shoulder, the Retriever tipped his head. "Between one beat of your heart and the next, I could kill you." As if to prove his point, he leapt the short distance between them, freezing when the blade of his sword rested against the gray-haired wizard's throat.

Gasping in surprise, the old wizard froze. His eyes widened as he peered into laughing emeralds, his lips firming at the glimmer of disdain he saw there. Realizing he had no choice, he took a deep breath and slid his hand into a pocket of his robe, fishing out the worn wand that lay hidden within. "I'd take you with me," he stated quietly, the tip of his wand appearing suddenly against Harry's temple.

Shifting his head away from the wand, the raven-haired demon smiled and increased the pressure of the blade, watching as the thin line of white began to redden. "You could try," he breathed. The sound of the doorknob turning had him spinning away and leaping to the opposite side of the room, the iron sword vanishing as quickly as it had appeared. He arched an eyebrow and glanced up calmly, hooking a finger through the collar of the white shirt lying upon the bed just as a young witch came slinking through the portal. Widening his eyes innocently, he slid into the shirt and tugged on the collar, straightening it before beginning to do up the neat row of buttons. "I'll see you later, Headmaster." Bowing his head in farewell, he scooped up the Slytherin robe and tie and left the infirmary.

Harry made his way through the castle, traversing the maze of corridors and staircases in search of his next class. The scrunched up schedule was held uselessly in his right hand, the series of numbers and words meaning nothing to him. After receiving only panicked looks and squeaks of fear from anyone whom he'd asked for directions, he'd finally resorted to using his nose. Unerringly, he followed Draco's scent to one of the uppermost towers of Hogwarts. Hiking his bag back onto his shoulder, he strolled into the classroom and glanced around with arched brows.

Perched precariously on three legged stools and fluffy cushions, the entire group appeared petrified. Empty teacups and misty crystal balls rested on the tables they were seated around, all being studiously ignored by the dozing students. A witch in her late forties swept around the room, waving her arms and speaking in a low-pitched voice. The numerous scarves she wore fluttered and swung wildly about her obviously thin body, their various lengths almost managing to silence the clattering of the beads hung around her neck.

A sudden movement had him turning his head and meeting the angered gaze of three Gryffindors. Smirking as the redhead's face began to rival the hair on his head, Harry tipped his head and wiggled his fingers. The brown-haired witch gasped and straightened as much as her stool would allow, her fingers tightening on the wand resting in her lap. Sitting between them, the plump wizard named Longbottom narrowed his eyes and clenched his jaw. The wizard's face bore several small red marks; the wounds obviously obtained in the Potions class accident. Remembering his own burned back, the raven-haired demon rolled his shoulders and growled at the slight sting.

The almost inaudible whisper of his name had him scanning the room and stilling when his eyes landed upon Draco. He arched a dark brow when the blond wiggled two fingers in a come hither gesture, indicating that the raven-haired male should take the seat next to him. Shooting one final skeptical look at the Professor, Harry wound his way around napping students and carefully climbed to the corner where the Slytherin was lounging. Dropping his bag next to the wizard's feet, he slowly lowered himself onto a stool that looked like it'd seen better days. Holding perfectly still, he folded his hands in his lap and watched the blond fidget in his peripheral vision. Finally, after several minutes of silent deliberation, the blond reached out and tapped his elbow.

"I'd like to thank you for protecting me earlier," Draco whispered. He glanced in the direction of the Professor and shifted uncomfortably, reaching out and absently running the tip of his index finger around the lip of the empty teacup sitting before him. Sighing heavily, he lifted his other hand and slid pale fingers through his platinum locks. "Severus only pairs me with Longbottom because he knows it drives the Gryffindors crazy. The idiotic fool couldn't brew a potion with a full team of assistants and the aid of the best Potion Master in the world."

"It would have been very remiss of me had I allowed your beautiful face to be ruined," Harry purred. Internally smiling as the blond's eyes widened and he flushed a delightful shade of red, the dark-haired demon gave a soft grin. "I don't think I ever would have been able to forgive myself, should I not have reached you in time." Before he could continue lathering praise upon Draco, the shrill cry of the crazed witch turned his head. His eyes widened in interest and his mouth curved into a grin as the woman scampered toward the trio of Gryffindors, her orbs impossibly big behind the frames of her glasses.

The witch descended upon the plump Gryffindor with a loud gasp, her bejeweled fingers snatching the empty teacup from his hands. She peered into the cup with wide eyes, twisting it round and round. Her face paled and she thrust the cup back toward the terrified wizard, ignoring the fact that the redhead sitting next to him had to scramble to catch it. "My boy, you have the Grim " Groans and snorts of disbelief were barely muffled by half a dozen students, all of them rolling their eyes and shaking their heads.

Their reaction had Harry leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees, emerald orbs focused on the unfolding drama. Beside him, Draco sighed and shook his head, lifting his right hand up so he could peer at his manicured nails. The rest of the Slytherins awaited the witch's announcement with bated breath, wondering how the Gryffindor was going to die this lesson.

"And the raven! A terrible combination," the Professor mumbled, lifting a hand to rub her forehead in an agitated manner. Muttering softly, she spun around and crossed the room, halting before her desk where she began to pull open drawers. Shaking her head, the witch dragged a heavy tome from the bottom drawer and dropped it upon the scarred wood of her desk. She swept dust off the cover with a swipe of her hand, flipping it open seconds later and beginning to turn the pages.

"Professor," the brown-haired Gryffindor witch called, "what does the raven mean?"

Harry watched as she reached over and patted Longbottom soothingly on the knee, her face an unattractive shade of white as she waited for the older witch to answer.

"The raven is a scavenger, Miss Granger, always searching for death." Licking a finger, the Professor flipped another page and ran a long nail down its length, halting with a shuddering sigh. Lifting her gaze slowly, she shook her head, staring at Longbottom through scared eyes. "I'm so sorry, Mister Longbottom. It seems you won't be with us that much longer. I must inform the Headmaster at once." Blinking misty orbs, the witch sniffled loudly before waving a hand in dismissal and fleeing the classroom.

"Do you think she's got it right this time? Is Longbottom finally going to get eaten by one of that over-sized oaf's illegal pets?" Draco asked in an overly loud voice, his comment directed at Blaise. Arching a thin brow, he glanced at the trembling Gryffindor and smiled evilly. Placing a hand on the crystal ball sitting in the center of the table, he rolled it off its cushion and into his lap, withdrawing his wand as soon as the glass orb was concealed. Several whispered words and a tap of his wand later, a bird as dark as soot went rocketing into the air.

'She must have," Blaise hollered over the curses and yells of the Gryffindors.

The Slytherins cheered the dark bird on, watching in amusement as the other half of the class erupted into chaos. Spells were fired wildly at the bird, ricocheting off the rafters and chandeliers hanging from them. Several minutes later the classroom was a battle zone.

Ducking a ball of purple magic, Harry sighed lovingly. War was such a beautiful thing. So was greed; and envy; and lust; and jealousy. The mortal plane was full of beautiful things. Listening to the two groups yell and screech at each other while the transfigured crystal ball flapped and screamed overhead, Harry slumped forward and stared at the silver band around his wrist. Reaching forward, he ran a finger over the little charm of the hunting hound and smiled. Under his touch, the figure's ruby eye winked.

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A/n: Thank you to everyone who took the time to read and review. For the sake of this story, we won't argue over why Hermione is in Divinations. Also, I took the liberty of fiddling with the meaning of raven. Odin's ravens, Hugin and Mugin, reported only to him but let's not digress.

jesse's rockstar - Harry will learn what a Death Eater is in the next chapter.  
koruyuha - If only everything were that simple, lol.  
Lady-Frisselle - I hadn't thought about whether or not I'd be bringing in Sirius or not. If I did, how would you like to see him? A normal wizard or a demon? Ah, the choices I'm forced to make.  
hieisdragoness18 - Yep, I'm done reading the book. Can you believe that ending?


	7. Gabriels Ratchets

DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter and all other characters and locations belong to J. K. Rowling.

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**Chapter Seven - Gabriels Ratchets**

Harry stalked silently down the middle of a darkened hall, the hood of his black cloak concealing his face. His feet were completely bare, devoid of the encumbering shoes and socks he'd been forced to wear all day. Halting before a brightly lit series of intersecting corridors, he tipped his head and inhaled softly, testing the air for anything of interest. Licking his lips when his nose failed to find anything worrisome, he arrogantly continued on, walking through the pooling torchlight without a care.

He was halfway down the next hall when the faint scrape of cloth against stone had his shoulders hunching and his hands balling into fists. Tossing a narrow eyed glance over his shoulder, he prowled onward, ignoring the sensation of being followed. Turning a sharp corner, he shot a curious look at an ancient tapestry of a unicorn and arched an eyebrow at the blood gleaming on its horn. The scuff of a boot had him stopping abruptly and whirling around, glowing emeralds scanning the shadowed nooks and crannies of the corridor.

"Be quiet, Ron." A masculine voice whispered fearfully, "he'll hear you."

"Hermione put a silencing charm on us, mate. You could scream his name and he wouldn't even hear you." A second male stated into the growing silence.

"Then why did he stop?" The first voice asked in a desperate hiss.

Harry closed his eyes and gave the lightest shake of his head; he hadn't been at the castle more then two days and he was already understanding the Slytherins hatred of the Gryffindors. He had honestly never met a more meddlesome bunch in his entire life. Dropping easily to one knee, he ran his nails lightly over the stone floor and smirked at the scraping sound that filled the hall. Wiggling his digits for a second, he looked thoughtfully at the ground before a devilish smile curved his features.

"What's he doing?" Muttered the first voice.

Rolling his eyes, the raven-haired demon lowered his right hand and began the careful process of carving several complicated runes into the pale stone. He narrowed his eyes as he worked, putting little thought into the message he was engraving in the floor. The runes he was using were demonic in nature and would be almost unreadable to anyone other than a demon. With a final drag of his thumb nail, he rose and looked down at the six swirling shapes he'd left within the gray stone. He pitied the poor fool who tried to interpret the short message, knowing that they'd end up with a nothing more than a terrible headache for their efforts.

"He's probably lost," the second voice murmured, amusement colouring the words. "Here, watch this."

Before Harry had a chance to ponder the second wizard's words, a large chunk of something slammed into the back of his head. Letting out a bark of pain, he reached up and cupped the wound. His lips twisted in an angered growl as the sweet coppery smell of blood appeared on the air currents. Whirling around, he hissed a soft threat and took five quick strides forward, swinging a clawed hand at the shifting shadows. He rumbled angrily when his nails passed through empty air.

"Ron, run!" Squealed the first wizard. The frightened words heralded the pounding of retreating feet as the pair fled the darkened corridor.

Probing unhappily at the bump on the back of his head, Harry glared after the wizards. The urge to chase after them was great, as was his desire to subsequently torture them slowly. Smiling at the thought, he turned and resumed his course.

It was dark outside the walls of the castle, the pale light cast by the moon only managing to deepen the shadows. The raven-haired demon dropped his gaze from the glowing orb to the circle on the back of his hand. He traced the darkening shape with the edge of a fingernail, mentally calculating how much time had eclipsed since his arrival. With a little less than a full month to hunt and capture his target, he was in sore need of some leads. Grumbling at the thought, he slipped down the castle stairs and further into the sprawling grounds. When he reached the edge of a dark forest, he stopped.

Drawing back the sleeve of his shirt, he ran a loving finger over the silver band wrapped round his wrist. In the moonlight, the six charms gleamed with promise. He ran his fingers over the little clasps, stilling when the tips rested above the dangling raven. With a light click, the charm fell into the palm of his hand. His thumb brushed gently over the metal, smoothing intricately engraved feathers. Raising his gaze, he searched the surrounding shrubbery for signs of treachery. When his eyes failed to find anything, he breathed in carefully, testing the night air suspiciously.

"Alright, my beauty." He finally breathed, at finding himself very much alone. Holding the silver raven between his index finger and thumb, he focused his power and brought it swirling to life. The spell he wove was a familiar one; his magic needing little guidance to complete its task. In his hand, and beneath the powerful touch of his magic, the silver raven grew. His magic faded when then the spell was done, returning to its swirling place within his aura.

In his arms, the silver raven remained still, its arched wings lifted as if in flight. Delving into his pocket, he withdrew a pair of black and red jesses and slid them around the bird's legs, weaving them through his fingers. After checking that the leather straps would hold, he raised his left hand to his mouth and sank one long fang into the fleshy part of his thumb. The light prick of pain made him wince but no other reaction was shown. He drew a deep breath as he moved his hand away from his mouth and began to smear blood on the bird's gaping beak. Closing his eyes against the bright flash he knew was coming, he tightened his grip on the jesses and waited. Seconds later an angered screech had him hurriedly opening his green orbs and smiling.

The black raven fluttered weakly upon his arm, its shadowy wings churning the cool night air. His hair fluttered in the breeze created by its struggle and he grimaced as the tip of a waving appendage caught him in the side of the face. With a final flap and an indignant squawk, the bird settled upon his arm. Tipping its head to the side, it gazed at him with one inky orb, its beak parting on a questioning croak.

"There's a good girl," Harry murmured. He ran a gentle finger over the raven's back, flattening her ruffled feathers "How's my little Jezebel been?"

Giving the black bird one last caress, he dipped his hand into his pocket and withdrew a small metal tube. He used his thumb to pop the lid open, glancing into the darkened interior to make sure the small slip of parchment was still there. Pushing the stopper back into place, he carefully bound the cylinder to the raven's leg.

"I shouldn't have to tell you who this is for," he stated to the dark raven, brushing her crest with one finger. Taking a deep breath, he loosened the jesses and tossed the bird lightly into the air. Immediately the raven unfolded her long wings and shot skyward, screaming shrilly as she went. Harry chuckled lightly and narrowed his eyes, watching his messenger vanish into the night. A flash of green in the distance heralded the raven's departure from the mortal plane, assuring him that his note would arrive to its intended receiver before day broke.

Lowering his gaze, he ran his fingers appreciatively over the silver band, selecting the next charm he required. The sleek hound fell into the palm of his waiting hand, its lithe body and whip like tail shimmering brightly. Smiling, he dropped to his knees and laid the small charm on the grass before him. Holding his bleeding hand above the shining metal, he slowly massaged eight drops of blood from the wound, watching as they fell atop the charm. He drew back when the last drop fell, rising and gliding away from the now glowing piece of silver. With an unearthly wail and an explosion of red light, the charm came to life.

Harry covered his eyes against the searing light and gritted his teeth at the piercing howl that cut through the night. When silence fell again, he lowered his arm and smirked. Before him, in all its glory, was a single black hound. The shape of its body was indistinct as it shifted back and forth, curling its lips and snarling angrily. Its eyes flashed a brilliant red, rivaling the colour of the finest rubies. Snapping wildly, the dog exposed yellowed fangs dripping with saliva. Growling unhappily, the animal began to pace slowly back and forth, its glowing orbs narrowed. Only for the briefest of moments could you make out the fine lines of its lean body; see the muscle and tendon that made the hound the best at what it did.

The black hound was one of Gabriels Ratchets; a demon dog of the wild hunt. Bred and trained to track down evil souls and sinners, the hound was one of the Retrievers greatest tools. No dog could track like a hell hound, and no one would dare suggest otherwise. The Ratchets ran as a pack, traveling in an ominous black cloud that screamed and bayed as it floated across the sky in pursuit of its quarry. When the silver charm was activated, one of the Ratchets was pulled from the pack and deposited before the summoning Retriever, much to that hound's displeasure.

Drawing a shallow breath, the raven-haired demon stepped forward. "Greetings, Yeth." Harry said calmly, offering the black hound a shallow but respectful bow. He addressed the hound simply by its title rather than its name. After existing for centuries, the hounds all bore similar marks and scars upon their bodies, making them almost impossible to identify by name. Nor did they wear collars or chains which bore identification, for nothing would stop a hell hound in the heat of the hunt. Thus, all hounds were commonly addressed as Yeth.

Straightening, he rolled his shoulders and tipped his chin back, glancing at the sky before turning his attention back to the waiting hound. Extending his hand slowly, he waited for the dark shadow to creep forward before expanding his aura. His magic swept over and through them, giving Yeth a tantalizing taste of demon magic and the unvoiced promise that more could be had if he captured his prey. Carefully, Harry extracted the memory of the rogue demon's aura from his mind and pushed it into the hound's head. He withdrew when Yeth threw back his head and let loose a haunting bay.

He opened his mouth to voice the command that the demon dog awaited but froze when the soft whisper of voices reached his ears. His fingers slowly curled into tight balls, his emerald orbs narrowing. Before him, the hell hound lowered its head and rumbled, the ridge of fur along its spine rising. Tipping his head to the side, Harry inhaled, and then he smiled. "Pin, Yeth." The order was nothing more then a softly exhaled breath, or a sigh of pleasure.

Appearing as eager as any well trained terrier, Yeth lifted his muzzle and sniffed loudly. Red eyes brightening noticeably, the black hound tossed back his narrow head and bayed triumphantly. Without pausing, he leapt forward, racing past Harry and into the dense underbrush of the forest. The continuous stream of barks that spilled from his jaws grew harsher as he slid into the dark forest, vanishing into the shadows like a ghost.

Smirking victoriously, Harry spun around and jogged leisurely after the hell hound. He didn't require the hound's keen nose to find the trio, however, a brush with one of the devil's dogs might do them some good. Smiling smugly, he leapt neatly over a fallen tree and halted. Opening his mouth, he turned his head in the direction Yeth had vanished and inhaled. The sweet smell of fear was ripe in his nose, making his mouth water and his pupils dilate.

A shriek of utter terror exploded from the brush that the black hound had disappeared into, the sound telling Harry that Yeth had caught his quarry. The raven-haired demon leapt into action, the cloak he wore flapping around his body as he raced toward the racket. His eyes gleamed with anticipation, the tempo of his heart increasing to a frantic drum roll. He entered a small thicket in an explosion of black and green, his movements becoming predatory at the sight of Yeth circling the base of a small tree. Sliding forward like a hunting leopard, he focused his gaze upwards, searching among the hanging leaves and drooping branches.

"Show yourself," he demanded imperiously, creeping closer to the tree. His words seemed to incite the hell hound's anger, causing him to rise up on his back legs and claw at the tree trunk eagerly, a thick froth appearing around his gaping muzzle.

It was the loud snap of a cracking tree branch that had Harry springing backwards, his cloak billowing around him like dark wings. Landing nimbly, he drew his iron sword and searched the ground for the individuals who had been spying on him. His nostrils flared with each deep breath he took, his narrowed eyes sweeping the forest floor. He watched in bemusement as a large branch crashed to the ground, its sudden appearance sending the hell hound into an angered frenzy of barking and prancing. Before the limp leaves had a chance to stop shaking from the impact, they began to tremble and quiver under a desperate hand.

It was a flailing arm that gave away the trio's position. Wriggling and shoving, the three struggled out from beneath the branch, their eyes wide and disconcerted. Pushing themselves to their feet, they clung to each other and stared at the sleek hound rumbling softly at them. Tangled in the damaged branches, a shimmering silver cloak lay forgotten.

Harry shifted, the movement alerting the three to his prescence. Shaking his head slowly, he arched a brow and shrunk the sword, placing it back on the silver band. "I should have known," he purred lazily. Heaving a mock sigh, he prowled forward, shrugging his cloak back and swinging his arms free of its length. "Perhaps now I shall get some of the answers I seek." He was stopped abruptly by the appearance of a wand, the sight of its glowing tip making him frown. Snapping his fingers, he brought the growling hell hound to his side.

"Don't come any closer," Hermione Granger ordered. The wand she held was shakily pointed at him, the tip weaving back and forth between his chest and face. Her eyes were wide in fear and focused on the seething mass of shadows resting against his heels. Reaching behind her, she wrapped her pale fingers around the redhead's wrist and tugged him forward, hissing at him to lift his wand. "You're coming with us."

"Am I?" Harry asked, mirth causing his eyes to dance. Chuckling softly, he dropped his hand to rest atop Yeth's head, curling his fingers through the hound's thick fur. Closing his eyes on a sigh, he shook his head slowly. When his eyes slid open again, he found himself staring at the tips of three wands, all of them glowing menacingly.

"Yes," the witch affirmed. She bobbed her head and elbowed Longbottom, indicating that he should lead the way back to the castle. "It's obvious you're performing some task for Voldemort."

Face twisted in a snarl of outrage, the redhead jabbed his wand at Harry's chest. "Death Eater!" His announcement was followed by a blast of blue magic, the spell hurtling toward the raven-haired demon's heart.

"No, Ron!" Hermione cried, making a wild grab for the redhead. Her wild lunge sent her stumbling forward, the toe of her boot catching beneath a hidden root and causing her to trip. Yelping in pain as she slammed into the ground, the brown-haired witch lifted fearful eyes and peered into glowing rubies.

Sidestepping the harmless charm, Harry watched with excited eyes as hell broke loose. In a matter of seconds, what had started out as a small confrontation turned into an act one would only find at a circus. The brown-haired witch screamed, the hell hound howled, the redhead paled, and the plump wizard let out a squeak of fear before passing out. Deciding to take action, the raven-haired demon leapt forward and sank his fingers into Yeth's ruff, dragging him away from the screeching witch.

"Hunt, Yeth." He snapped loudly, giving the shadowy hound a light toss in the opposite direction of the scattered trio. Without waiting to see the dog's departure, he spun around and caught Hermione by the back of her robes, hefting her to her feet and pinning her against the nearest tree. Shifting his grip to her throat, he glared into her unseeing eyes and raised his other hand to rest upon her cheek. "Now, little witch, tell me, who is Voldemort?"

Eyes widening, the witch let out a choked gasp, and then her eyes rolled back in her head and her wriggling body went limp.

A roar of anger from behind him had Harry dropping the witch and stepping to the side, barely avoiding the redhead's flying body. Closing his eyes as the wizard cracked his head against the trunk of the tree and slid to the ground in an unconscious heap, he gave an aggravated groan. He lifted a hand and rubbed the tattoo on the back of his hand as he surveyed the damage that had been done. Three unconscious mortals lay before him; one from fear, one from a lack of oxygen, and the third from stupidity. Not to mention he'd given Yeth the hunt command without assuring that he had the proper aura to track.

Lifting a hand to tug on his shaggy bangs, he considered the newest piece of the puzzle he'd been given. "Voldemort," he murmured, brow drawing down at how familiar the name sounded. Frowning, he reached down and picked up the redhead's still form, tossing the limp body over his shoulder and bending carefully down to pick up the witch. He shouldered both nuisances easily, straightening and walking to where the plump wizard lay moaning. Scooping the wizard up, he rested him on his hip, carrying him like a sack of brimstone or coal. Making sure that the pair slung across his shoulders wouldn't fall off, he headed in the direction of the shining castle.

"Voldemort, Voldemort, Voldemort." He repeated as he glided through the shadows, straining his memory. His eyes lit suddenly and he halted. Voldemort. A nickname that was often used on one of the High Court Demons who spent a great deal of time exclaiming over his trips to the mortal plane. Narrowing his eyes in thought, he began to walk again. He worried his bottom lip as he attempted to remember if the demon in question had been in Hades throne room when he had departed.

Reaching the castle, he climbed a set of stairs and paced toward the Great Hall. He glided through the dark corridors soundlessly, an eager smile curving his lips into a somewhat devilish leer. If his prey was actually the famed Voldemort, he shouldn't have that hard of a time finding him. At home, in hell, Voldemort was prone to childish acts and flashy appearances. As far as Harry was concerned, he was bound to screw up sometime and reveal his location. And if that didn't work, Yeth would find him.

Depositing the three students in a pile in the center of the Great Hall, the raven-haired Retriever swept from the chamber. He could still get six hours of sleep if he hurried, or he could spend six hours standing over Draco's bed drooling. Shrugging his shoulders at the difficult choice, he vanished into the dungeons.

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A/n: Thank you to everyone who took the time to read and review. Next chapter, expect the arrival of another demon. 

amour de vin - Demons are spawned and they have only ever been demons. The prophesy does exist but Neville is believed to be the Boy-Who-Lived.  
Lady-Frisselle - Severus and Draco will eventually figure it out, but not right away.  
PleiadesWolfe - Harry has a full month, or until the tattoo on his hand becomes full. The tattoo is like an hourglass, slowly leaking the time away.  
YamiGoddess - Demon Sirius shall make his entrance next chapter.  
Koruyuha - Demons can be killed with Iron, or at least they can in this story. Salt can be used to bind or restrain them. With so much writing and talk about demons, you kinda have to go with what seems to work the best.  
MangaCat201 - lol, assume I'm working.  
PrincessEmeraude - Yep, Longbottom is the Boy-Who-Lived.  
hieisdragoness18 - Thank you for the lovely compliment, it was much appreciated.  
TorringMay - Glad you're enjoying this story. The Lions of Hogwarts will be resumed eventually, right now I'm a little bogged down with RL.


	8. A Dark Stranger

DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter and all characters and locations belong to J. K. Rowling. **

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Chapter Eight - A Dark Stranger

Harry sat at the Slytherin Table, eyes locked on the cooling oatmeal in his bowl. This morning he had no appetite. In Hell he could go days without eating, but here on the mortal plane, his body needed sustenance. He tapped his spoon against the silver bowl, enjoying the loud clank. Closing his eyes, he inhaled, focusing on the various smells filling the Great Hall. His sensitive ears picked through several different conversations, halting when worried whispers from the Gryffindor table reached him. A malicious smirk curved his lips as the details of the trio's discovery were exclaimed over. Sighing in delight, he slipped his spoon into the oatmeal and lifted it slowly.

Magic brushed against his aura, the feeling raising the small hairs at the nape of his neck. This touch was different from that of a wizard trying to invade his mind. It was more of a magical knock, a demand for acknowledgment. He stiffened in reaction, emerald eyes narrowing in concentration. His silver spoon was lowered en route to his mouth, its contents spilling back into the bowl. The blood sluggishly pumping through his veins began to quicken with the tempo of his heart. With little thought, he examined the spot, searching for a magical signature. Moments later, a dangerous smile curved his lips and he reclaimed his spoon.

He was coming. And he was right on time.

Anticipation filled him as he straightened. He swept the Great Hall with gleaming eyes, noting that the House Tables were packed and all members of the Hogwarts staff present. His tongue flicked out and swept over his lips, the sensitive organ picking out the most delicate of scents. Flaring his nostrils, he reaffirmed what he'd discovered upon the air currents and smiled. He extended his aura and watched as the gathered students magic reacted to it, flaring brightly under the light caress. Turning his head, he focused his gaze upon the double doors and waited.

It took exactly two minutes and thirty three seconds for Filch to appear at the entrance of the Great Hall. It took another sixteen seconds for everyone eating breakfast to notice his arrival as well as that of the individual trailing him. Murmurs died away to whispers as curious eyes focused upon the tall stranger. Wood creaked as students craned their necks for a better view.

Harry sighed almost inaudibly, resting an elbow on the dark wood of the Slytherin Table. He rested his chin in the palm of his hand, sparkling orbs locked on the cloaked form drifting leisurely into the chamber. The faintest rasp of cloth against stone reached his ears, each breath sounding like the booming of thunder. As if sensing his appraisal, the shadowy individual halted.

A deep cowl concealed the man's face, the edges worn ragged. Small threads dangled from the drooping sleeves, only increasing the air of mystery that clung to him. Turning his head slowly, the tall male swept the students with pale eyes. Black hair slipped from beneath the hood and fell to his thin shoulders in a tangled knot. Lifting frail hands quickly, the male pushed the cowl back. Gasps broke the silence as his face was revealed. Ignoring the rash of whispers the action had caused, he resumed his course toward the Head Table. His steps faltered when his gaze landed upon Harry, the gray orbs widening and a devilish grin twisting his thin features. He changed course suddenly, veering in the direction of the Slytherin Table.

Swinging his leg over the bench, Harry rose. A smirk similar to the one the dark-haired man wore rode his lips. "Sirius," he greeted calmly. Before he had a chance to say anything else, a pair of arms wrapped themselves around his shoulders and hauled him against a bony chest. His nostrils flared at the smell of sulphur and brimstone that the other demon exuded, the scent momentarily making him nostalgic. Giving his advisor a hearty pat on the back, he pulled away. "Took you long enough," he grumbled playfully.

"Hah," barked Sirius. He stepped back with his hands resting on Harry's biceps, examining the younger male. After several long seconds, he gave a bob of his head and released the younger male. "You're looking well, as always."

"As are you, old friend." Harry said smoothly. He couldn't help the dangerous chuckle that slid past his lips, the sound causing the nearest students to shift nervously. The arrival of the other demon meant his hunt could continue with renewed vigor. While Harry's talents laid with tracking and locating . . . Sirius had other, more useful, powers.

Sirius was not a true demon. Rather, he was a mortal inducted into the demon world shortly after his death. His slightly suspicious death; though suspicious was putting it lightly. Imbued with the powers of a minor demon, he was set forth to do the devil's bidding. His job . . . create chaos wherever feasible. Sirius was very good at his job. So good, in fact, that he drew Harry's unwanted attention. While Harry hadn't needed or wanted a friend, minor demons always made wonderful gophers. Thus, a relationship of convenience was formed.

The sudden appearance of Snape at his shoulder had him stiffening. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sirius lick his lips and sniff delicately. Fighting down the mischievous grin threatening to encompass his face, he cleared his throat and lifted his chin. "Have you reconsidered my offer, Severus Snape?" To make his meaning perfectly clear, he dropped his eyes to the dark tattoo hidden beneath the man's heavy black robe.

Stiffening, Severus lifted his chin and glared at the pair. "The Headmaster would like to see you in his office after breakfast." He snarled, his onyx eyes drifting to where the old wizard sat amidst his staff. Giving Dumbledore a sharp nod, he returned his gaze to Harry. "And he requests that you bring your new friend." With a final sneer, he shot the young wizard's companion a murderous look and whirled around, stalking from the Great Hall.

"Nice fellow," Sirius commented.

Snorting in amusement, Harry shifted his gleaming orbs to the gray-bearded wizard perched at the center of the Head Table. As his gaze met Dumbledore's, he tipped his head and smiled, baring teeth slightly sharper than normal. "I'm very glad you think so, Sirius, because you'll be spending a lot of time with him."

Almost immediately Sirius flung an arm around Harry's shoulders and yanked him closer. "Do you mean it?"He demanded excitedly, orbs shining in a maniacal sort of way. His tongue flicked out and swiped over his lips, brow drawing down slowly. "There's something not quite right about that man."

Harry nodded as he watched the Headmaster rise and sweep from the Great Hall, faded lavender robes swirling behind him. Twitching his own robes neatly into place, he indicated that Sirius should follow him and turned to leave the hall. He stilled, however, when his eyes fell upon the graceful blond standing arrogantly between the double doors that opened into the Hall. His lips parted and he inhaled deeply, drawing Draco's delightful scent into his lungs. As his mouth watered and his pupils dilated, he completely forgot what he'd been in the process of doing.

Pursing his lips, Sirius looked back and forth between Harry and the blond. A knowing grin crossed his lips as the younger demon licked his lips and breathed in heavily. "Not quite as focused as usual, are we?" He muttered, shoving the Retriever lightly in the back. Ignoring the pointy elbow that connected firmly with his left kidney, he reached forward and pinched Harry on the arm. "Cupid finally get you? Man, that sucks. I didn't think he'd really follow through with that particular threat."

Harry rolled his eyes and shook his head slowly. "Cupid has nothing to do with it, Sirius." Giving himself a mental shake, he headed toward the wizard, Sirius following at his heels. "Good morning, Draco," he said softly in passing. He couldn't help but glance over his shoulder as he stalked from the hall, feeling strangely disappointed as Sirius pointedly blocked his view.

"Lust, is it?" The tall demon murmured, nodding his head sagely.

Harry gave a small snort that turned into a chuckle, something akin to relief flooding through him. It was only lust. Nothing more than a simple, primitive, mortal emotion. "Exactly. See, that's why I need you here. You know this world so much better than I."

Sirius grinned at the compliment. "I'm glad you've finally decided to admit that you need me," he purred suggestively with a wiggle of his eyebrows. Getting only a sneer in response, he decided to change the topic of conversation before the Retriever decided he no longer required a gopher. "Why, exactly, did you summon me?"

Slowing his pace, Harry tipped his head to the side and sniffed. He frowned at the flood of smells and shook his head before changing tactics. His aura flared with a mere thought; tendrils of magic stretching out and searching for any witch or wizard within the vicinity. Finding only a pair of very young witches and a ghost dozing within the walls, he deemed it safe to disclose what he'd learned. "The subject of my hunt is Tom Marvolo Riddle."

The name stopped the minor demon in his tracks, causing him to stumble forward. "Voldemort's here?" Sirius whispered, his tone hushed and oddly reverent. Some random thought must have crossed his mind because a radiant smile crossed his face and he clapped his hands in delight. "I finally get to meet Voldemort._ The_ Voldemort."

"Yes, well, you have to help me find him first." Harry grumbled dryly, picking up the pace. He led Sirius up a set of stairs and down another hall, following the path he'd taken with Dumbledore just days ago.

"You have to admit, Harry, the demon does fabulous work." The taller demon pointed out, narrowing his eyes as they drew to a halt before a statue of a gargoyle. He observed Harry with slitted eyes, smirking when the Retriever hissed 'Sherbert Lemons' and set the stone statute to sliding aside.

Glancing over his shoulder at his companion, Harry tipped his head in acknowledgment. "That may be so, but his failure to return on time means I get stuck freezing my balls off in the snow while I look for him." A shiver slid down his spine at the thought and he immediately shouldered deeper into the heavy robe he wore. He grimaced and stepped into the shadowed stairwell, beginning the short trek upwards to the Headmaster's study.

"You're a real pessimist sometimes, Harry."

"It's expected of me," Harry replied easily. He lifted a hand and knocked lightly on the door before him, head tipping as he listened to Albus shuffle about inside. The old wizard was undoubtably preparing himself for the meeting that lay only seconds ahead, the raven-haired demon thought, an evil grin curving his lips. Ah, mortals. How they loved their drama.

"Enter," called the aforementioned wizard.

Placing a hand on the door, he flicked a quick look over his shoulder, silently warning his companion to mind his manners. Under his hand, the door swung open. "Good morning to you, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore." Harry greeted politely. As he'd expected, the Headmaster sat imperiously behind his large desk, blue eyes narrowed behind half-moon spectacles.

"Please have a seat, Harry." Albus said, waving a hand to indicate the pair of chairs resting before him. His lips firmed as the young demon moved gracefully forward and lowered himself into one of the seats, emerald eyes glowing eerily. He shifted his gaze to the tall stranger, frowning when the male continued to drift around the room.

"Severus Snape said you wished to parlay with me." The raven-haired demon finally said, breaking the silence that had fallen. He shifted uncomfortably in the chair, brow drawing down as his nostrils flared. His tongue flicked out and ran over his lips, subtlety testing the air. Iron . . . in its natural form. Immediately his chin came up, eyes flaring at the deliberate threat.

"Your very presence here defies everything I believe in," Albus informed the young male. Shaking his head slowly, he slid open the top drawer of his desk and withdrew the weapon he'd placed there earlier. In the sunlight the iron dagger glimmered with promise, its blade razor sharp. "You endanger my students at every turn. Just this morning I received a frantic fire call from Professor McGonagall reporting that three of her students were lying unconscious in the Great Hall."

Harry peered thoughtfully at the blade, considering it cautiously. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sirius arch an eyebrow in question. A slight shake of his head sent the older demon to perusing the shelves full of clinking, clanking devices. "I believe we went over this the other day, Headmaster, you may have the tools but you don't have the power. You would, perhaps, manage to wound one of us before we killed you. If you were very fast, you might even kill one of us. However, the outcome would still be the same."

A sly smiled twisted Dumbledore's face and he rose from his desk. Leaving the dagger lying upon a pile of parchment, he turned and walked toward the massive shelf that stood at the far side of the chamber. "I don't recall giving you permission to invite another of your kind here," he stated as he pushed his glasses up his nose.

With that remark, Harry assumed he had won the battle. "I require his presence," he answered simply. His eyes flicked to the phoenix perched in the corner, the emerald orbs narrowing as the bird trilled and fluttered scarlet wings. The sudden crash of glass and metal had him whirling around and shaking his head at what he found.

"I slipped," Sirius said in leu of an apology. Shrugging his shoulders, he moved away from the broken glass.

"Be that as it may," Dumbledore began as he waved his wand and repaired the hourglass, "you failed to gain my permission before bringing him here." Turning back to the row of books he stood before, he gave a soft exclamation and pulled an ancient tome from the shelf. He returned to his desk slowly, frowning as the wandering demon tugged roughly on Fawkes' tail. "You may see yourself as being all powerful, Harry, but the truth is . . . you're not." That said, he laid the book down next to the dagger and sat.

Harry's eyes widened at the sight of the book. He couldn't suppress his snarl of shock nor the sudden fisting of his hands. "Where did you get that?" Rather then waiting for the question to be answered, he stood and skittered backwards. His heart pounded and his pupils dilated as he stared at the grimoire. From where he stood, he could smell the dark magic wafting from the pages of the book.

Seeing his companion's agitation, the tall dark-haired demon crept forward. Fear chased all shock from his face, gray eyes shimmering in an unnatural manner. "Those were all destroyed," he sputtered. "All of them."

"Obviously not," Albus said jovially. He flipped the grimoire open and began to turn the pages. The demon's reaction to the book surprised him. He had assumed some level of fear would be shown at the initial appearance of the book, however, outright terror was not what he had expected. Realizing that he had discovered something that truly scared the young demon, he relaxed. Fear was always a wonderful motivator and he would use it to his advantage.

Shaking off the spell that the book had settled upon him, Harry straightened and took several deep breaths. His eyes drifted closed at the sweet smell of pure magic, delighting in the way it melted within his lungs. He relaxed into the feeling, letting the familiarity calm him. After several seconds of this routine, he opened his emerald orbs. "Which spell shall you use to cast us home? Perhaps the one that requires the blood of an innocent? Or maybe the one that requires you to bind us to something easily destroyed?"

"The remainder of your stay here will be dependant upon your ability to follow orders and the guidelines I originally set." Dumbledore stated, closing the grimoire. His hand remained on the dusty cover of the book, the gesture a warning that he was to be taken seriously.

Rather than continuing to toy with the old wizard, the raven-haired demon gave the answer he was expected to give. "As you wish," Harry murmured. He bowed his head and lowered his dark lashes, shielding his shining orbs. His teeth dug into his lower lip, the twinge of pain aiding him in keeping the devilish grin off his face. To his delicate ears, the words sounded extremely insincere.

"Excellent. Before you go, Harry, I must ask you if you're any closer to finding your cousin? For the sooner you locate him, the sooner you can be gone from my castle." Albus stated as he pushed back his chair and rose. He stiffened as the taller demon suddenly appeared at Harry's shoulder, its unearthly grey eyes resting on him. Picking up the ancient grimoire, he brandished it at the new demon before turning around and striding to the bookshelf behind his desk. The book was slid away carefully, a light brush of his fingers changing the appearance of the spine.

Tipping his head to the side, Harry smiled. "With every passing hour, I grow closer to finding my cousin. Sirius' presence here will only quicken my hunt."

"Excellent." Albus muttered, "I shall have rooms prepared for your companion in the dungeons. For now, I suggest you go to class." He nodded his head in dismissal and returned his attention to the books before him, old fingers running pensively over the spines.

Harry bowed his head and swung around, stalking from the Headmaster's study with Sirius at his heels. As soon as he was out the door, he let loose a hiss of frustration. He balled his hands into fists, ignoring the pain as his needle like nails dug into his palms. "How did he get that book?" The words were torn from his lips, unearthly green eyes blazing. Rumbling unhappily, he stalked back and forth several times before drawing a deep breath and halting.

"Now what?" Sirius asked as they stepped into the corridor. He glanced around them, gray eyes sweeping the shadows anxiously.

"We do what we're here to do," Harry responded. Running his hands down the front of his robes, he rolled his shoulders and inhaled.

Sirius bobbed his head and then frowned. "What am I here to do again?"

"I want you to follow Severus Snape. He knows Voldemort's location and will eventually be the one to lead us to him."Harry explained. "Oh, and Sirius? Don't siphon or toy with his aura, enough damage has been done to it already."

Sirius gave a small pout before bowing his head in acquiescence. "I will do as you have asked and report back to you tonight." Whirling around, he tipped his head before taking off down the hall. He vanished around a corner in a hiss of black cloth, completely focused on locating the Potions Master.

Smiling, Harry turned and prowled down the corridor. He had a Charms class to get to.

XxXxX

A/n: As always, thanks to everyone who took the time to read and review and I'm glad everyone's enjoying the story.

Disco-Dancing on the Roof - lol, I love researching things that will help me make my stories better, especially when its stuff I don't already know a lot about. It's so much more interesting that way.  
Lady Starlight2 - Unfortunately you'll have to wait for chapter 12 for that little encounter. But I'm glad you're enjoying the story.  
Andromeda Malfoy-Potter -I haven't thought about bringing Remus into this story yet, though it's probably workable. Actually now that you mention it . . . he'll fit perfectly in that chapter . . .  
hieisdragoness - lol, I don't think I'll ever stop writing. Thanks for the pm, it raised my spirits enough to get my butt back in gear.

Lady-Frisselle - I think a lot of Harry's background will remain a secret. As for the answer to your other question, I'm afraid I can't answer it.


	9. Death Eaters Strike Dove Town

DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter and all other characters and locations belong to J. K. Rowling

**Chapter Nine - Death Eaters Strike Dove Town**

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Sweet Hades, he was in love, Sirius thought. Sighing heavily, he propped his chin on his knuckles and watched dreamily as the greasy-haired wizard snarled at one of the cowering students. He was perfect. Absolutely perfect. From the tips of his shiny boots to the hook like nose on his face, the Potions Master was magnificent. And extremely malicious. Which was a complete turn on. 

"I owe you, Harry." Breathed Sirius, shifting silently in the shadows where he hid. His gray eyes remained locked on the prowling wizard, thin fingers itching to reach out and touch the tall mortal. Fisting his hands, he sank deeper into the darkness and leaned against the cold stones of the dungeon wall. The mere thought of him being in love was laughable. Almost as laughable as Harry being in lust with the little blond.

His face brightened at the thought. If Harry could break the rules, so could he. With a mischievous smirk, he dilated his pupils and blinked as the auras of everyone in the room popped into existence. A myriad of colours met his gaze, from the brightest of blues to the darkest of greens. He studied the students carefully before shifting his orbs to their Professor.

Dark purple surrounded the greasy-haired wizard, small streaks of black tracing the magic. Harry's warning about toying with the mortal's aura flashed through his head and was quickly dismissed. Smiling, he set to work.

XxXxX

Harry leaned forward, emerald eyes widening as the diminutive Professor waved his wand emphatically. The stack of books the wizard stood on swayed dangerously with his movements, causing numerous gasps to escape the mouths of his students. Lips parting, he rested his hands on the desk before him and waited eagerly for the accident to happen. After the seventh time the wizard rocked back and forth, he hissed softly and slumped down in his chair.

"Don't get your hopes up," Draco mumbled from the left of him. The blond absently tapped his books with his quill while examining his nails, lips pursed. Lowering his hand, he turned to look at Harry. "I've been waiting five years for him to topple and it hasn't happened yet."

Eyes brightening, the raven-haired demon chuckled. Before he could reply, a pair of bricks appeared on the table between them. Blinking in confusion, he stared at the hunk of stone. His brow drew down and he frowned, lifting his eyes to peer around the classroom. A smile of understanding crossed his face when the students began to pull their wands from their pockets. Draco's sudden yelp had him jerking around in time to see the blond's wand flying through the air. He reacted without thought. In the blink of an eye, his hand shot out and closed around the handle of wand.

"Wonderful catch, Harry!" Professor Flitwick cried, clapping his hands frantically.

Turning to Draco, Harry smiled and slowly offered him the wand. "Quick fingers," he breathed into the blond's ear. His fingers trailed along the side of the wizard's hand in a deliberate touch. Straightening as the blond flushed, he folded his hands atop the desk and listened to the rapid beat of the wizard's heart.

Rolling his shoulders, he trailed Draco down the stairs into the dungeons. Other than toying with Draco, he'd accomplished very little in Charms. The scuff of cloth upon stone stilled him. He tipped his head and inhaled, then frowned. Ahead of him, Draco turned around, probably wondering why he'd stopped. A twitch of his eye and the subtle lifting of his jaw had Harry tipping his head.

"Parkinson, may I ask what you're doing?" Draco queried, his eyes flicking past Harry to the witch standing behind him.

Harry stiffened at the name, shoulders tensing. He turned slowly, emerald eyes narrowing at the sight of the blonde standing belligerently at his back with her wand leveled upon him. His lips drew back in a silent snarl, slightly elongated canines flashing in warning. Wiggling his fingers in preparation to strike, he focused completely on the female Slytherin. So riveted was he that he failed to notice Draco's quiet approach.

"I asked you a question," the blond wizard said. His voice was carefully soft, the tone cultured. Arching a slender eyebrow, he crossed his arms, placing one hand upon the hilt of his wand.

Glancing nervously over her shoulder, the blonde shifted her weight and adjusted her grip on her wand. "Mind your own business, Draco." Each breath she drew was harsh, her gaze darting back and forth between the pair. A twisted smile slid over her delicate face. "My business is with _Harry_."

"And what business is that?" Harry returned in a rumbling purr. He tipped his head and inhaled deeply, testing the witch's scent. What he found widened his eyes and increased the rapid beat of his heart. Wafting from the blonde's skin and clothes, almost hidden under the cloying smell of fear and jealousy, was the crisp scent of demon magic. His lashes dipped as he opened his mouth and breathed in slowly, drawing the smell over his tongue. Draco's sharp gasp had him snapping to attention and growling in outrage.

"This," the witch announced, beginning a downward swish with her wand. Before she could finish the incantation or the wand movement, the shadows behind her exploded. Her wand was knocked from her grasp and she was slammed ruthlessly against the closest wall.

"May I kill her?" Sirius asked politely.

Harry smiled as the witch squeaked in protest, her hands scrabbling at the one Sirius had wrapped around her throat. Gliding forward, he halted next to them and extended a hand. He slid his knuckles over her cheek gently, the light touch belying the murderous glint in his eyes. "Unfortunately, you may not." The witch appeared greatly relieved by his verdict, her struggles easing as he stepped back and Sirius' hold loosened. "However, such an attack cannot go unpunished."

"Harry? What's going on? And who's this?" Draco demanded imperiously. The blond stood with his arms folded over his chest, pale eyes drifting back and forth between the three. His wand dangled from his fingers, Pansy's held tightly in his other hand. At the raven-haired wizard's silence, he arched an eyebrow and tilted his head. "Well?"

"I'm his go-"

"Godfather. Sirius is my godfather. He's very protective of me," Harry answered quickly, managing to cut the other demon off before he blew their cover. Offering the blond wizard a toothy grin, he moved away from the pair. "We're going to be late for our next class," he said, attempting to change the subject.

"It's lunch," Draco said. His icy orbs narrowed and he lifted his chin, arrogance showing clearly upon his face. The look the pair of dark-haired wizard's exchanged had him stiffening. "You're lying to me."

Ignoring the furious statement, Harry moved closer and reached for the blond. "Nonsense," he breathed. When the blond shifted away from his touch, he struck with his magic. His aura bound the wizard, stilling him almost immediately. "I'm sorry," he whispered. Pretending not to hear Sirius' amused snort, he lifted his hands and rested his fingertips on the Slytherin's temples. With the delicate touch of an artist, he erased the past few minutes from the blond's memory.

His expression was grim as he took a step back and swung around to look at Sirius and the witch. "Do her," he snapped sullenly. He frowned as the minor demon chortled in glee, beginning to pace back and forth silently. The charms on his wrist band jangled with each step, the liquid in the vials sloshing angrily. For the briefest of seconds, the contents in one of the vials darkened. The pale green potion turning jade before lightening again; the liquid returning to the softest shade of green imaginable.

"It's done," Sirius said. He let go of the witch and moved toward Harry, fidgeting with the sleeves of his dark robes as the raven-haired Retriever circled absently around him. "She should be punished."

Snorting at the words, Harry spun around and stalked to where the blonde witch leaned against the far wall, her eyes glazed. He tore her sleeve without preamble, revealing the pulsing tattoo on her forearm. "I highly doubt attacking me was her idea. Nor did she just happen to stumble across one of the few charms that could bind us on her own. She had help." Dropping the witch's wrist, he clenched his hands and drew a deep breath. "He knows I'm here. Knows that he's being hunted."

Sirius peered over his shoulder as if expecting Voldemort to pop out of the darkness. "How?" He asked in concern. If the High Court Demon knew a Retriever was after him, he'd be more inclined to lash out in an attempt to disable the weaker demon. Especially if it gained him another few days on the mortal plane. Harry would be more than a match for Voldemort though, that was probably why Hades had sent him.

"I don't know." But he could hazard a few guesses, Harry thought. Nibbling on his bottom lip, he gave his head a slight shake and glanced down at the wizard lying prone upon the cold dungeon floor. "Yes, well, lets forget about that for now. I'll deal with Draco. Do something with the witch. Hide her, lock her in her nightmares, I don't really care. Just make sure she can't report back to him," Harry ordered.

"Certainly, I'll see you later," replied Sirius. He tossed the blonde witch carelessly over his shoulder and disappeared down the dungeon corridor, whistling softly as he went.

Shaking his head in bemusement, Harry knelt down next to Draco and began to shake him lightly while calling his name repeatedly. When the blond's eyelids began to flicker, he pulled his aura back and released the magic holding the wizard in his current state. "Are you alright? You must have passed out." He smiled and pushed Draco's soft locks off his forehead, muttering the importance of eating a big breakfast the entire time. After a few minutes, he helped the wizard clamber to his feet and guided him up the stairs to the Great Hall.

XxXxX

Harry fiddled with his cup of juice, amused eyes watching as Sirius plowed his way through a platter of chicken legs. Around the pair, the Slytherin students watched in stunned silence, their own plates sitting untouched.

"So good," Sirius marveled. As his eyes roved over the table, he slid a greasy finger into his mouth and happily sucked grease off the digit. He jumped when the empty platter vanished and a new one popped into existence in its place. The finger he'd been sucking on slipped free of his mouth with a pop, gray eyes widening in delight. "I love magic," he purred reverently.

"Does he always eat like this?" Draco asked in bemusement. The blond arched an eyebrow and lifted his glass of pumpkin juice, peering at Harry over the rim.

Smiling fondly at Sirius, Harry dipped his head. "Always." Raising his own cup, he took a long swallow and then lowered the cup. A soft noise drew his attention from the wizard and he tipped his head, focusing on the sound. It took him mere seconds to place the noise, owls. Dozens of owls. The scrape of parchment accompanied the light rustle of wings, the sounds practically inaudible. He lifted his chin, watching the narrow windows around the roof for the birds appearance.

Minutes later the first owl dropped through one of the narrow slits, a newspaper clenched in its talons. Before it had a chance to land in front of its master, dozens of others spilled into the Great Hall. Owls of brown and gold fluttered around the hall, hooting anxiously as they sought their masters among the masses. The unusual appearance of half the owlery had the students whispering nervously, all of them searching for their bird among the flock.

A massive black Eagle Owl landed gracefully before Draco, its amber eyes flashing as it offered the blond the rolled up newspaper. "Thanks," the blond muttered absently as he took paper. He handed the bird a piece of sausage and shooed it away before opening the paper with a snap. Almost immediately his pale eyes widened, hands clenching as he lowered the newspaper to the tabletop.

Harry slapped Sirius' reaching hands away from a red owl waiting to deliver its message, shoving the half eaten platter of chicken legs into his arms. "Don't" he warned. Shaking his head as the taller demon shot him a sullen look, he returned his attention to Draco.

"Death Eaters Attack Dove Town," the blond read out loud. His quiet voice seemed overly loud, the words causing the surrounding Slytherins to shift uncomfortably.

"They're all Death Eaters!" A student screamed from the far side of the Hall.

"They shouldn't be here!" Shrilled someone else.

Immediately the chorus was taken up. Dozens of voices yelling in outrage, fingers all pointing at the silent Slytherin Table. Dumbledore rose and lifted his hands, trying to bring silence to the yelling students.

"Death Eaters?" Sirius asked around a mouthful of chicken. He arched an eyebrow as the wizard sitting across from him shot him a strange look.

"Followers of Voldemort," a young witch whispered. "They serve the Dark Lord."

"He has an army?" Sirius asked in disbelief. "Did you know that?" He demanded, turning to Harry. The platter of chicken was forgotten, his eyes narrowing in thought. "Do you think Had-"

"No, I don't." Harry snapped. Shrugging off Draco's questioning look, he lifted his juice and took a long sip. "But he's going too."

XxXxX

Harry frowned and stared down at the puddle slowly forming at the tips of his boots. He slid his left foot back as the shimmering liquid crept forward, distaste showing clearly on his face. Lifting his gaze, he arched a dark eyebrow and peered at his companion. "A unicorn? You killed a unicorn?"

Widening gray eyes, Sirius pulled the finger he had been sucking on from his mouth and shrugged his shoulders in indifference. "If you want, I can tear the horn off and you can pretend it's just a little white horse . . ." The offer was accompanied by a wiggle of bushy eyebrows and a devilish grin. When Harry merely curled his lips into a disgusted sneer, the shaggy haired man shrugged again and returned to sucking unicorn blood from his fingers

Shaking his head, Harry sighed heavily. "But a unicorn, Sirius." He stressed, dropping his shining orbs back to the carcass resting upon the snow. The beast was sprawled gracelessly on the ground where the Minor Demon had dropped it, blood flowing freely from the gaping wound in its throat. "Of all the animals in the forest . . ."

Once again slipping a finger free of his mouth, Sirius arched an eyebrow. "Unicorn blood was the strongest available. Unless, of course, you'd agreed and let me kill several young mortals. You do realize that if you had agreed, neither of us would be standing in the middle of a dark forest losing certain parts of our anatomy to the cold, right?"

"I'm immune to the cold," Harry muttered, lowering himself to his knees. Ignoring Sirius' huff, he extended a pale hand and dipped a single finger into the glistening pool. His lashes dipped slowly and shielded his eyes, concealing the flash of desire that raced through the glowing orbs. It was not every day that a demon was given the chance to feast upon unicorn blood. Drawing a ragged breath, he withdrew the slender digit and watched in fascination as silvery liquid dribbled from his nail, plopping silently back into the puddle

"Yes, well, some of us aren't so lucky and it would be much appreciated if you'd hurry up," Sirius snapped. Folding his arms, the gray eyed demon glared down at the Retriever.

Shooting his elder an amused look, Harry returned his finger to the pool and carefully drew three runes in the cooling blood. "I call thee, Hades, God of Death. Your dutiful servant requires your presence." He shakily lifted his hand from the pool and wiped the clinging blood off on his knee, gaze locked on the trembling silver puddle.

Sirius shuffled closer and peered down into the puddle, narrowing his eyes in an attempt to make out anything in the glimmering liquid. "You do realize the likely hood of Hades answering a blood call personally is-"

"Is what, demon?" Growled an angered voice from within the depths of the puddle.

"Ludicrous, my lord." Sirius finished quickly, falling to his knees and bowing deeply. "One such as yourself should not be answering simple blood calls. You must have much more important business to attend to, my lord."

"Indeed I do, you simpleton." Hades snarled, the silver blood swirling dangerously as his temper flared. Hissing softly, he transferred his gaze to the top of Harry's head. "Report, Retriever. And lift your head, I wish to see your face while you speak to me."

"Yes, my lord." Harry replied calmly, raising his chin and meeting the god's gaze. "You failed to tell me that it was Tom Marvolo Riddle I was looking for."

"You forget your place, Retriever." Hades returned sharply.

Dipping his head, Harry offered the god an apologetic bow. "I meant no offense, my lord, only that it would have assisted me in locating him faster had you given me all the pertinent information before I began my hunt."

Hades entire demeanor brightened suddenly. "You've found him already?" He demanded, excitement clear in his tone. The look of denial that raced over Harry's face had him snarling softly. The thickening unicorn blood swirled as if stirred by a strong wind, ripples appearing in the metallic liquid. "Then why are you wasting my time, Harry Potter?"

Harry's eyes flashed angrily at the careless use of his surname. "Please, my lord," he murmured, balling his hands into fists. His face flushed as the slightest hint of desperation crept into his tone, worry colouring his down turned face. Inhaling deeply, he lifted his chin. "I have learned something that I believe you will find of interest. Voldemort's actions upon the mortal plane haven't been quite as innocent as we have been led to believe."

"I would expect nothing innocent of a High Court Demon," Hades drawled. His icy eyes shifted to something only he could see and a grim frown crept across his face. Curling a lip, he waved a long fingered hand gracefully. "Can't you see that I'm busy?" He snapped, gesturing at Harry. With a shake of his head, he returned his attention to Harry.

"My lord, I'm afraid Voldemort isn't following the laws by which we exist. He has made his presence known to a group of wizards and is using them to attack other mortals. His actions are becoming more careless as the days pass," informed Harry. He chanced a quick look at his boss, mentally patting himself on the back for doing such a good job of breaking the bad news.

"He means to take over the world," Sirius added.

"He what?" Hades roared.

Closing his eyes, the raven-haired Retriever groaned softly. His fingers curled slowly, nails piercing the flesh of his palms. Silently promising himself that he could thrash Sirius within an inch of his second life when this was all over, he answered the screeched question. "Amassing an army of wizards with which to take over the world." He stated calmly, shooting a warning look over his shoulder at Sirius. Bowing his head as the God of Death let out an angered shriek and vanished from the pool only to reappear seconds later, he gritted his teeth and prepared to take the full fury of the devil.

"If what you tell me is true, than a change of orders is necessary. No longer do I wish you to retrieve Voldemort. You may instead, upon locating him, slay him." The pale god instructed without a hint of remorse. His almost angelic face was expressionless, pale eyes hiding his thoughts with practiced ease.

Harry's orbs widened at the words. An order of execution was almost unheard of in the demon world. In fact, Hades hadn't condemned one of his demons to death in seven hundred years. Shock and awe settled upon him as he realized the magnitude of the Devil's command. He, Harold James Potter, was going to be the first Retriever in over seven centuries given permission to kill a High Court Demon. Sure, demons killed other demons every day but this was a member of Hades inner circle. Flabbergasted, it took him a moment to remember the God of Death was waiting upon him. "As you wish, my lord." He said finally, his voice pitched slightly higher then usual.

"Time is passing, Retriever." Hades warned, reaching out and abolishing his image with a wave of slender fingers.

The unicorn blood blackened as the devil disappeared, leaving Harry and Sirius kneeling silently in the snow. Both demons stared at the hardened puddle, disbelief etched clearly upon their faces. Somewhere in the distance, a wolf howled, its droning cry echoing through the Forbidden Forest. Seconds later the call was answered by a flurry of high pitched barks, the noise bringing Sirius to his feet.

"That went surprisingly well," Sirius exclaimed while anxiously searching the shadows.

Harry rose fluidly and brushed the snow from his knees. "I'm going to count to ten," he said calmly. Arching an eyebrow, he glanced at Sirius before running his fingers over the silver band he wore. The small iron sword disengaged from the bracelet with a soft snick, enlarging as soon as it landed in his palm. Tightening his grip on the gold inlaid hilt, he hefted the blade. "One."

"Now, Harry, it really wasn't that bad." Sirius soothed, taking a small step backwards. He chuckled nervously as the raven-haired Retriever swung the sword in a slow arc, the blade whistling sharply.

"Two," Harry continued. His eyes narrowed and he tipped his head, bringing the shimmering length of iron closer to his nose. He shook his head at the sight of a small nick in the blade, momentarily stopping his counting as he wondered if it was fixable. Frowning, he ran a long nail over the gouge, testing its depth to see if it would affect the sword's use. Giving a sharp shake of his head, he lowered the weapon and wiggled his fingers on the grip. "Three."

"Alright! I'm sorry. I'm stupid and I'm sorry," Sirius yelped. He skittered backwards as Harry lazily swung his sword, the blade catching the moonlight.

Harry smiled, a baring of unnaturally sharp teeth. "Four."

Opening and closing his mouth, Sirius gave a soft whimper before spinning around. "Just remember I'm your friend and you love me very much," he hollered over his shoulder. His shoulders tensed as Harry continued his count. Deciding that he'd rather sleep in a snow bank then let Harry lop off his head, he launched himself into the darkness.

Smiling as Sirius vanished into the night, Harry chuckled and shrunk the iron sword. He reattached the blade to the silver band upon his wrist, fingers lingering on the charm. Arching his back, he tangled his fingers in his hair and moaned softly. Today hadn't been a complete waste of time, but he could feel his deadline pressing down on him. He was running out of time and his hound had yet to return bearing news of Voldemort's location. Growling at the thought, he whirled around and glared at the glowing castle. He hoped Yeth would return soon. Shivering, he folded his arms and glided toward his temporary home.

* * *

A/n: Thank you to everyone who took the time to read and review. 

sbkar - lol, the good news is that I've returned to an atmosphere where I can at least be productive. Hopefully I'll be able to return to the schedule I used to keep most dutifully. Shame Ness2 - I've wanted to write a story featuring a dark Harry for a very long time, but I think this is as close as I'll probably get.

hieisdragoness18 - Remus will make an appearance, as a demon, but it won't be for four or five more chapters.thrnbrooke - Dumbles is just doing his job, though I do agree with you. Unfortunately Harry can't tell the Headmaster who his target is, its against Retriever rules.mangacat201 - Yeah, he probably should have, but then we wouldn't of had as much fun as we're been having.

TorringMay - lol, Yah I'm back. Hopefully I'll be able to keep it up. Glad you're still enjoying it.

Lady-Frisselle - I haven't decided on Sirius' and Severus' relationship yet.

Wolven Spirits - Glad you enjoyed the introduction of Sirius.


	10. Return of the Hell Hound

DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter and all other characters and locations belong to J. K. Rowling.

**Chapter Ten - Return of the Hell Hound**

* * *

Emerald orbs were focused angrily upon the clock hanging on the far wall, fisted hands clenched tightly around a pink feathered quill. Leaning forward slightly, Harry narrowed his eyes, certain that the clock had died. With a click audible only to his ears, the minute hand took a creeping step closer to the twelve o'clock mark. He slumped into his chair with a soft moan, letting his head fall back so that his gaze was focused upon the raftered ceiling. In his hand, the quill snapped. The sound jerked the dozing wizards behind him awake, sending them scrabbling nervously in their seats and drawing the Professor's narrowed eyes to their section of the classroom.

"Why aren't you taking notes?" Draco whispered, glancing at his companion with an arched brow. He tapped the untouched parchment before Harry with the feather of his quill, drawing the dark-haired male from his obviously tedious thoughts.

Because I was alive when the Goblin War of Bristlegrunde happened. In fact, I've even spoken with several of its more . . . unfortunate attenders. "Everything he's telling us is in the textbook he expects us to read. Now, I can either read the book, or listen to him drone on. I am, however, not doing both." Harry grumbled to the blond, "I'm sure as Heaven not going through this pointless battle twice." That said, he returned his uninterested gaze to the ceiling and the small spider dutifully crafting its web amongst the dark wooden beams.

"I'm sure as Heaven?" Draco repeated, brow drawing down. He gave a faint shake of his head at the words, wondering where exactly Harry had picked the strange saying up. "I don't believe I've heard that one before. Are you sure you don't mean 'Hell'?"

Harry straightened suddenly, green orbs widening as his gaze darted around the shadowed chamber. The urge to slap his hand over the blond's mouth was barely suppressed, as was the quick apology to his lord that leapt to his lips. Realizing Hades was unlikely to pop in and demand an apology for the deliberate smear to his realm, he relaxed. A dry laugh escaped him as he slumped back into his chair, fingers absently toying with the broken quill. "Really? That's quite strange. Where I come from, it's a very common saying."

"Oh? Where was it you came from again?" Draco asked quietly, waiting with bated breath for the other wizard to respond. His attention was drawn from Harry by Theodore Nott, the brunette nudging him rudely with his elbow. Eyes slitting angrily, he turned his unhappy gaze upon his fellow Slytherin.

"Have you seen Pansy?" Theo hissed loudly. He drew back at the glare Draco was directing at him, face paling. "I-I-she's missing!"

One slender eyebrow slid upward in surprise and Draco gave the Slytherin section of the classroom a cursory glance. "So she is," he mused. He brushed his chin with the silver feather of his quill, lips pursed thoughtfully. "Harry? Have you seen Pansy?"

"Nope," mumbled Harry, oblivious to the rising tension among the wizards sitting around him. His eyes remained focused on the broken quill he held, teeth grit in concentration as he carefully lined the splintered ends up and pressed them together.

"Are you sure?" Theodore asked suspiciously.

Hands stilling, Harry turned and fastened gleaming orbs upon the angered wizard. "Quite," he replied stiffly.

Harry's lack of concern for the blonde witch was reasonable in Draco's opinion. Parkinson had done nothing but harass and pester him since his arrival at the castle. Shrugging the witch's disappearance off for now, he opened his mouth to reassure Nott but closed it when a voice broke into the Professor's monologue and disrupted their conversation.

"Excuse me, Professor Binns." A voice called angrily from the opposite side of the room. "I can't hear you because _someone_ is talking."

"Bitch," Draco hissed, pale eyes locked on Granger. His hands clenched around his quill and he silently wished it was his wand. He turned his gaze to the front of the chamber where the ghostly professor waited and pasted an expression of extreme surprise on his face at the accusation.

"I see," Binns drawled, floating slowly above the first two rows of desks. "Five points from Slytherin for disrupting my class."

"My most profuse apologies, Professor," Harry purred placing a hand on Draco's knee beneath the table. "I was merely curious over whether Thrickton's failure to hold Glipper Gulch could be directly blamed for the low number of Yelgish Goblins alive today. In my quest for knowledge, I failed to ask the proper individual." Before Professor Binns could wipe the look of extreme shock off his face, the bell rang concluding the class.

"Where did that come from?" Blaise demanded, pushing out of his chair slowly. He exchanged a glance with Theodore and shook his head. "Have you already read the chapter?"

"Thank Hades," Harry hissed, rocketing out of his chair. He ignored the questions and gathered his books, practically shoving Draco toward the exit. Dipping his head slightly, he lowered his voice and whispered into the blond's closest ear, "You owe me."

"Owe you what?" Draco exclaimed shrilly, shooting a look over his shoulder. He stiffened at the emerald fire burning in the dark-haired Slytherin's eyes, a delicate shiver overtaking his lithe body.

"Whatever I want," Harry purred, orbs glowing with promise. Giving a devilish laugh, he scooped Draco's books from his arms and hurried him to their next class. Hopefully, the clock in the Ancient Runes room moved a little faster then the one in the History classroom. And hopefully, Pansy's disappearance wasn't looked into too deeply . . . especially since Sirius had been the one to hide the blonde's body. Giving a shake of his head, he silently hoped the minor demon would remember where he put her; Heaven forbid they have a repeat of the Rastlin incident.

XxXxX

Harry stood upon a narrow ledge, his eyes fastened upon the gleaming crescent hovering in the dark sky above him. Somewhere among the shadows an owl shrieked, its haunting cry drawing him from his reveries. Curling his lips in a silent snarl, he lifted his hand and eyed the almost identical shape etched into his skin. Yeth was late and he was running out of time. The rasp of cloth against stone had him tensing visibly and flexing his fingers, working the stiffness from his joints. Flakes of snow began to slowly drift from the heavens, settling upon his shoulders in a mantle of ice. A soft curse had him relaxing his stance, his eyes returning to the pale moon.

"All you Retrievers are the same," Sirius complained. The minor demon took another shuffling step forward, wide gray eyes locked on the frozen ground located fifteen stories below. He wobbled dangerously as a cool wind whipped around him, tugging mercilessly at the long black cloak he wore. "You can't find a cozy little alcove in an unused corridor or a dark corner in the dungeons to meet. No, of course not. Instead, you go out of your way to find a place that's completely inaccessible to anyone with half a brain."

Darting an amused glance at his companion, Harry smiled. "You'd survive," he replied easily. Turning with the grace of a panther, he glided further down the ledge, placing one foot carelessly before the next. His eyes flicked over the naked trees in the distance, the orbs narrowing to mere slits as he searched among the bare branches and coniferous evergreens. He breathed in slowly, tilting his head as the slightest whiff of brimstone became apparent upon the breeze.

"That's not the point," whined Sirius. Grimacing, he teetered after the raven-haired demon, his arms held out for balance. "Couldn't you find somewhere warm and dry to brood?" The minor demon winced as the wind wailed, catching the falling flakes and sending them billowing around the pair in a blinding wall of white.

Lips curving in a small smile, Harry paused with the toes of his boots resting over the edge of the narrow stone ledge circling the top of the castle. He raked the frozen lake and its surrounding cliffs with a disinterested glare, nostrils flaring as he breathed shallowly. When he found nothing of significance on the currents, he growled, hands fisting unhappily. His eyes were hooded as he swivelled to look at the other demon, the orbs glowing an eerie shade of green. "I'm awaiting the arrival of Yeth," he informed Sirius quietly. "Now, why are you not watching Severus Snape?"

Crossing his arms defensively under the penetrating gaze of the Retriever, Sirius huffed. "The blasted wizard smeared Liquid Iron all over his bloody door." His bottom lip came out in an angered pout as he contemplated his findings. "I don't think he likes me. Either that, or he really hates you. Of course, I haven't been here long enough for him to hate me. So it must be you. Did you threaten him? Ooh, did you look inside his head? I bet you did the Retriever thing. You did, didn't you?"

Raising a single finger, Harry arched a dark eyebrow. "And you couldn't find another way into his chambers?" He asked softly, disbelief clear in his voice.

"Even if he did leave, it's not like he's going to go far from the castle in this weather." Sirius replied dismissively, beginning to chafe his hands together.

A flash of movement drew Harry's eyes and attention away from Sirius. Below them, a heavily cloaked figure pushed against the wind. Eyes brightening, he froze; only the trailing ends of his cloak swaying wildly with the winter wind. His nostrils twitched as he sniffed delicately, emerald orbs following the individual's path. "Severus Snape," he breathed, lips curving in a devilish smirk. Tipping his head slightly, he shot a look at his shivering companion. "And what if he does decide to leave while you're up here?"

Sirius snorted. "Where in Heaven would the man go? It's not like he has a hoard of witches vying for his attention in yonder village." He snapped back, desperately rubbing his hands together. His teeth chattered as he shivered, the sound causing him to cringe and shoulder deeper into his thin cloak.

Giving a disgusted shake of his head, Harry sighed. His right hand shot out suddenly, closing in the folds of Sirius' cloak and dragging him forward until only the heels of his boots rested upon the thin stone ledge. With little effort, he held his struggling companion in place, narrowed orbs tracking the Potions Master. No one would be out in weather like this by choice, he thought. His attention was diverted by the green glow that encompassed his left hand, the light emanating from the first vial swinging gently back and forth. "Yeth," he murmured, even as his keen ears picked up the haunting bay of the hell hound.

"Harry!" Sirius squeaked, eyes focused on the ground directly below him. He yelped as he was roughly shaken, his hands reflexively reaching back to paw at the digits locked in the cloth of his cloak.

"Tell me, Sirius, who is that?" Harry asked cooly.

Stiffening at the tone, Sirius focused his gaze on the dark form and narrowed his eyes. "Well . . . it's really hard to tell from all the way up here. Maybe it's a student?" The slightest hint of desperation was clear in his voice, the notes mingled with an unhealthy dose of hope.

"It's Severus Snape," Harry purred softly. His words caused the minor demon to whimper in fear, the icy fingers once again pawing at his hand. Giving Sirius a hard shake, he shifted closer to the edge of the roof, deliberately causing his incompetent minion to lose his balance and tip forward. Almost immediately the gray-eyed demon began to thrash, hands and legs waving madly. Smiling innocently as Sirius yelped, he glanced down and widened his eyes. "How do you propose to go after him when you're up here pestering me?"

"Well, I could-"

"He'll be gone by the time you make it down the first flight of stairs." Retorted Harry with a sharp shake of his head. He lifted his burning orbs and searched for the Potions Master among the snow. His brows arched in surprise when he managed to locate the wizard a fair distance away, his head tipped down to shield his eyes from the whipping snow. "Perhaps I should help you down?" Ignoring the muted pleas for release, he returned his gaze to the wizard. At the speed Snape was traveling, Sirius would never make it out through the main doors. With a frown, he tightened his grip on the minor demon's cloak and bent his knees. In an explosion of black cloth, he leapt into the night, catapulting Sirius before him.

While Harry couldn't fly, with the proper momentum he could achieve an impressive glide. He utilized that skill now, shooting through the sky like a falling star. His cloak billowed out behind him like dark wings, the fabric cracking in the wind.

Sirius, on the other hand, hurtled through the air with all the grace of a thrown rock. And his landing perfectly matched the description. With a bone breaking thud, he slammed into the frozen ground and rolled several feet, coming to a halt in a pile of snow.

Landing nimbly beside him, Harry swatted his cloak back into place and nudged his companion with the toe of his boot. "Follow," the Retriever snapped, his gaze dropping to where the minor demon lay gasping for air in the snow. He frowned and gave a shake of his head when Sirius groaned and rolled over slowly, lifting a feeble hand to touch his temple. Rolling his eyes, he reached down and tangled his fingers in the front of dark-haired demon's shirt, hauling him to his feet. "I'll not repeat myself."

"Bastard," Sirius replied weakly, shoving Harry's hands away. Muttering under his breath, he limped off after the Potions Master, pausing only once to shoot an angered look at the Retriever over his shoulder.

Relieved to see his orders being followed for a change, Harry swung around and broke into a light jog. He headed into the Forbidden Forest, darting between the thick trunks and snow laden branches. Fallen trees were easily negotiated, as was a narrow vein of rapidly tumbling water. Sounds of the forest flooded his ears, from the soft whoosh of an owl's wings to the crunch of snow under a centaur's wide hoof. His pace slowed only when the vial hanging from his wrist glowed a vibrant green. Lifting his chin, he inhaled, wrinkling his nose at the strong smell of brimstone and sulphur. Though the smell clouded his senses, it also relieved him. Yeth had finally returned. Smirking grimly, he prowled forward, head swinging from side to side in search of the hell hound.

It was a rasping rumble and the flash of a shining red orb that drew him to a halt. His hands fisted at his sides, knuckles whitening before he slowly unclenched and stretched the stiff digits. Green eyes slitted, seeking a repeated flash among the shadows. The air left his lungs at the sharp crack of dead wood, the sound spinning him around.

Sliding from the shadows like smoke, the hound growled and ducked its narrow head. Its form was almost insubstantial in the darkness, the sleek lines of its body blurred. Only the demon dog's glowing crimson eyes were truly distinguishable; the brilliant orbs shimmering unnaturally. Those orbs held a feral gleam, a hint of wildness that shouldn't have been there. Curling its lips back from inflamed gums, the hell hound snarled, sending saliva splattering upon the ground.

Taking several careful steps forward, Harry stilled, his eyes narrowing as a growl tricked from the beast's maw. He tipped his head and inhaled slowly, watching the animal warily. Something was wrong. His brow drew down and he slid his left foot back, taking a small retreating step as the hound prowled forward. "Greetings, Yeth." He said softly, shifting his weight onto the balls of his feet. Without thought, his right hand drifted to the small iron sword dangling from his wrist. As if sensing his intentions, the hell hound growled, its ears held flush to its skull.

Both Retriever and hell hound remained tensed, their gazes locked upon each other. With a soft snick, the iron blade dropped into Harry's hand and the dark dog lurched forward. Muscles bunching, the raven-haired demon sprang to meet the black blur. In a swirl of dark fabric and writhing shadows, the pair came together.

Fangs raked the side of Harry's face, the hound's breath warm as it snapped wildly at his exposed throat. He turned his head to the side and inhaled shallowly, lips pressed tightly together as he struggled to hold the demon dog away from him. As his arms quivered with the strain, he stared into the glowing red spheres, startled to see the anger bubbling within the orbs. With effort, he shoved the animal away, sending it tumbling across the icy ground. Before he had a chance to regain his breath, the hell hound was bounding back toward him, a haunting cry slipping from its mouth. His sword came up as the animal neared, knuckles whitening as he prepared to strike. When the time came, he swung.

Like the shadows it was made of, the lithe form dissipated, the whistling sword passing through the air where it had stood. Cursing angrily, Harry hefted the blade and swung around, his gleaming eyes scanning the surrounding forest. He hissed softly in warning, baring his teeth in a show of defiance. His fingers wiggled on the sword's gold inlaid hilt as he swivelled slowly. Snow swirled down between the reaching branches overhead, the flakes settling upon his dark hair.

Tentatively stretching out his aura, he sought Yeth among the shadows. It took him mere seconds to locate the hell hound; its aura glowing a brilliant shade of scarlet in the nearby brush. Drawing a slow, even breath, he merged their consciences together. His mind was immediately entangled within the dog's; it's senses and thoughts becoming his own.

Anger swept through him as he jerked his mind from the hound's, clamping his jaw and fisting his free hand. The hastily laid aura and command he'd placed within Yeth's conscience had been erased and replaced . . . with one very similar to his own. It seemed that Voldemort had discovered the lurking hell hound and decided to return it after making a careful revision. What had originally begun as a fairly simple hunt had been turned into a search and destroy mission . . . with a Retriever as the target. That meant that the High Court demon had been unable to find a memory of Harry within the hound's tangled mind. He still had the advantage, then.

His train of thought was brought to an abrupt halt as Yeth exploded from the darkness, snow flying in his wake. Knowing that the hound would be of no further use to him, he yanked the blue vial from the silver band upon his wrist and sent it hurtling at the beast. Glass shattered upon contact, the liquid splashing across the hell hound's scarred flank. Almost immediately smoke began to rise from the spot, blue flames crawling over the demon dog's side. Yowling in pain, Yeth stumbled and fell into the snow, rolling wildly in an attempt to extinguish the small blaze.

"I'm sorry," Harry whispered, lifting an arm and covering his nose with the sleeve of the shirt he wore. In an explosion of indigo flames, the hound vanished. Brow pinched in distaste, the raven-haired demon prowled forward and peered at the ground where Yeth had laid. Dropping slowly to one knee, he reached into the puddle of slush and closed his fingers around a small piece of metal. He withdrew the melted charm with a saddened sigh, staring at the blackened silver and dim ruby eyes. Rising fluidly, he returned the hell hound to its place upon his wrist.

A small smile slid across his face and he tipped his head back, staring at the moon. Voldemort may have been powerful but he was also stupid. Curiousity over the hell hound's appearance would draw him to Hogwarts; as would the mysterious identity of its sender. Chuckling softly, Harry whirled around and stalked back toward Hogwarts, the iron sword gleaming promisingly in his hand.

XxXxX

Sirius staggered through the snow after Severus, his shoulders hunched and his eyes narrowed against the whirling flakes. He mumbled angrily as a shiver racked him, wrapping his arms tightly across his chest. How he wished he was at home . . . safe and warm beside the fires of hell . . . a dirty martini in hand . . . maybe even a certain incubus for entertainment. His wishful sigh was lost in the whining winds.

Gritting his teeth as a thin layer of magic brushed over him, he glanced over his shoulder and expanded his aura, watching as a veil of silver leapt into existence before the castle. He shot the warm structure a morose look before returning his gaze to Severus' back. A startled yelp nearly escaped him when he found the wizard a dozen feet ahead of him, a glowing piece of parchment resting in his gloved hand. Cursing Harry, Sirius broke into a limping jog. He pulled together his meager stores of magic as he moved, carefully gathering the power and nurturing it into a simple charm. With a faintly whispered word, he cast the sphere forward, smirking triumphantly as it hit its target before the wizard had a chance to disappear. His triumph look faltered when the Potions Master vanished, leaving him standing stupidly alone.

"Harry's going to kill me," he stated. Turning around, he began to plod back toward Hogwarts, head lowered in shame. A burning sensation around his navel was the only warning he was given before he was being thrust through limbo. Before he was given the chance to digest the fact that his spell had worked, he was deposited unceremoniously in a bank of tightly packed snow. Swearing loudly, he hauled himself free of the icy mass and stumbled to his feet.

"Who's there?" A voice called warily.

Mouth snapping closed, Sirius stilled. He swivelled around slowly, relief rushing through him at the sight of Severus Snape standing anxiously before him. When the wizard lowered his wand and shook his head, the minor demon grinned, watching as Snape spun around and strode forward. Shooting a victorious look at the ground beneath his feet, he loped after the wizard. Harry was so going to owe him after this trip.

Through a series of darkened corridors he trailed the wizard, appearing as nothing more than a shadow to the individuals they passed. Deeper and deeper they went; down staircases and through narrow doors, over puddles and piles of crumbled stone. Boredom was beginning to set in when Snape stopped suddenly and pushed open a pair of doors. Pursing his lips, Sirius slid in behind the wizard, barely remembering to hold the shadow spell he'd woven around himself as his eyes fell upon the lone figure perched at the front of the room.

There, before him, sat Voldemort. The Voldemort. One of the darkest demons to ever grace Hades Hall. His trickery was unrivaled. His mercilessness and maliciousness whispered into the ears of newly spawned demons. He was the stuff of legend.

And he was butt ugly.

Mouth snapping closed, Sirius narrowed his eyes and leaned forward, desperately searching for the High Court Demon's nose. He straightened moments later, certain that a prolonged search would do no good: the snake-faced demon was noseless.

"You're late, Severus Snape."

The crowd of robed figures jumped at the sudden announcement, shifting nervously as Voldemort glared angrily at them. Sirius fought the urge to drop to his knees and cower, instead slinking deeper into the hovering shadows and folding his arms. He watched as the Potions Master dropped to his knees and pressed his forehead to the cold stone floor, murmuring apologies to the uneven cobble.

"I don't have time for this," Voldemort snapped, sinking deeper into his wooden throne. "Tell me, my loyal servant, when do the students of Hogwarts next gain the freedom to visit Hogsmeade?"

Severus lifted his chin enough to look at the tips of Voldemort's scuffed boots, eyes closing tightly as he prepared to give his answer. "Tomorrow, my lord." His whisper was greeted by a soft scoffing laugh, the sound echoing eerily around the chamber.

A shiver slid down Sirius' spine at the haunting sound, goosebumps rising along his arms. He moved to rub the bumps away, freezing as Voldemort straightened suddenly and sniffed indelicately through the two narrow slits in his face. Did those really qualify as nostrils? He silently mused as the High Court Demon returned to his relaxed position. Voldemort's next words had him freezing and sinking deeper into the comforting darkness.

"Excellent. Tomorrow, while the students are in Hogsmeade . . . we shall attack."

* * *

A/n: Thank you to everyone who took the time to read and review. My most sincere apologies for not updating sooner but RL interfered with my writing schedule.

DramaQueen1193 - Glad you like it.  
DaughterofDeath - Short and to the point, eh?  
Amber v - Next chapter shall contain a lot more HD action.  
blkmagicklily - lol, I'm very happy you're enjoying it.  
Lady-Frisselle - I'm thinking chapter twelve or thirteen will have that most waited for scene. Probably chapter twelve, as long as chapter eleven goes according to my notes.


	11. Greetings from the Underworld

DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter and all other characters and locations belong to J. K. Rowling.

A/n: All I can say is that this chapter is a lot longer then I originally intended it to be.

**

* * *

Chapter Eleven - Greetings from the Underworld**

Harry opened his eyes and inhaled softly, his sensitive ears picking up the light tread of shod feet upon the stone floor. His muscles tensed in preparation for attack and the beat of his heart increased to a driving thump. He stared blankly at the canopy of his four-poster, nose carefully dissecting the scent of the individual creeping through the darkened dorm room. At the familiar smell of brimstone and sulphur, he relaxed, lazily stretching his arms above his head and yawning widely.

"Harry?" Sirius whispered loudly as he glided down the path between the two rows of beds. His gaze darted from four-poster to four-poster, glowing eyes narrowed against the dark. A loud snuffle had him stilling and holding his breath, waiting for the dozing wizard to resettle before continuing his search. He breathed an angered curse and took another creeping step forward, freezing when the emerald curtains surrounding the last bed were shoved aside. The sight of a slightly rumpled Harry had him sighing in relief and rolling his eyes. "There you are-"

Harry hissed loudly, raising a finger and pressing it to his pursed lips in warning. Eyes slitting, he rolled out of bed and set his feet on the cold floor, gritting his teeth upon contact with the icy stone. Snatching up the cloak he'd been using as a light blanket, he prowled past Sirius and out into the dark corridor that led to the Common Room. He swung the wrinkled cloak around his shoulders and fastened the clasp, leading the way down the narrow hall. "Report," he growled softly, striding toward the glowing embers in the hearth.

"I saw him, Harry. I actually saw Voldemort. The Voldemort." The minor demon said, a trace of excitement colouring his words. A tremble racked his thin frame and he quickly trailed Harry toward the fireplace, chaffing his hands together as he went. Without thought, he crowded the Retriever, forcing him further away from the reddened coals. "You should have been there! Did you know he doesn't have a nose? I didn't know that. How weird is that? I mean, there are some ugly demons out there but he definitely-"

"Focus, Sirius." Harry growled, nudging the taller demon away from the hearth. He knelt upon the cold stones before the dying embers and hastily tossed several logs atop the coals, watching in satisfaction as a small blaze crackled to life. His eyes drifted closed at the immediate wave of warmth, his hands lifting toward the orange flames.

Heaving a delighted sigh, Sirius held his palms out toward the growing fire, a contented smile curving his lips. "Right, he was waiting for Severus. Apparently, he plans on attacking Hogsmeade tomorrow while the Hogwarts students are there. Strange, isn't it? That a High Court demon of his caliber would spend so much time chasing after a bunch of children. It actually seems quite unhealthy now that I think about it. Maybe Hades should give him more responsibilities at home. You know-"

"Silence," Harry hissed between his teeth. He glared into the snapping flames before him, his mind reeling with the possibilities. Voldemort was coming to town. In just a few hours, the High Court demon would waltz into Hogsmeade completely unprepared for the appearance of a Retriever. The smile that stretched across his face was decidedly malicious; the mere thought of the meeting ahead causing his eyes to glow with a feral light. Only one individual stood between him and his target. One wizard, to be exact, and he could easily be handled. At the thought, his lips firmed and his eyes narrowed. "Where is Severus Snape now?"

"Still with Voldemort," Sirius responded, turning around so his back was toward the fire. "Voldemort believes he has a traitor among his followers. He seeks to ascertain whether the betrayer is in the group he called."

Harry nodded his head slowly. As long as Severus Snape was kept busy, he would have no time to alert Dumbledore to the approaching disaster. Rising fluidly, he began to glide back and forth in front of the fire, his bare feet making no noise on the floor. It was in his best interest to see that the gray-bearded mortal was kept unaware of the situation. After all, if Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore found out, he'd stop the students' trip into Hogsmeade. This, in turn, would alert Voldemort to the fact that his plans had been leaked . . . which would force him to postpone his trip into Hogsmeade. Bobbing his head, he spun to face Sirius, placing his hands on his hips. "You're to return to Voldemort's headquarters and make sure that Severus Snape does not contact Albus Dumbledore. When you arrive in Hogsmeade, you may contact me."

"You aren't going to warn them, are you?" Sirius asked softly, his voice filled with concern. Shuffling his feet nervously, he raised his eyes and peered at the raven-haired demon. "I don't understand. How can you risk the lives of the mortals you've befriended? You put them all in danger, even your little blond, by not telling the old wizard."

"I'm a Retriever, Sirius, not a Protector. It's my job to hunt down wayward demons and return them to Hell. That's what I was bred to do, remember?" Harry muttered blithely. Rolling his shoulders slowly, he shot a quick look at the clock hanging above the mantle and frowned. It was almost two o'clock. Most of the students probably wouldn't be up before nine or ten, which meant they wouldn't start heading into Hogsmeade until eleven or twelve in the afternoon. This gave him a good six hours to patrol and scout the little village before the place was overrun with screaming witches and wizards. Giving a decisive nod of his head, he swung around and began to head back to the sixth year boys' dorm, halting when he realized Sirius was still standing in front of the fire. "Why are you still here?"

"It just doesn't seem right, Harry." Sirius mumbled at the toes of his boots. Sighing, he lifted a hand and rubbed his forehead, trying to ease the tension building within his skull. "You're supposed to protect the mortal plane from irreparable damage. If you allow Voldemort to kill any of these students than damage has been incurred. Once they die, you can't bring them back. They don't get a second chance, Harry."

"Do you really think the deaths of a handful of children will affect this plane's existence?" Harry mused, widening his eyes as he peered at his companion. He remained perfectly still as he waited for the minor demon to respond, nostrils flaring as he examined Sirius's scent for traces of deceit. It would have been easy for Voldemort to take control of the lesser demon, planting thoughts and urges in his small mind. Confusion filled him when he found nothing abnormal about the demon's scent.

Narrowing his eyes, Sirius lifted his chin in defiance. "Yes, I do. I've lived on this plane, Harry, don't ever forget that." Drawing a deep breath, he took several steps toward the Retriever, stilling when the younger male dropped his hand to lazily play with the charms dangling from his wrist. "Every life matters. And every death affects numerous people. You're deluding yourself if you think no damage will come from allowing several mortals to be killed."

"It's a good thing I don't usually ask for your opinion," Harry mumbled, rolling his eyes. Giving a shake of his head, he swung around and headed toward the doorway that led to the dorm rooms. "Go, Sirius, do your job. As I'm going to do mine."

"And what are you going to do?" The minor demon called at the back of the retreating Retriever. When Harry stopped abruptly and swung around with a soft snarl, he realized what he'd done. Skittering backwards, Sirius forced an apologetic smile and shrugged his shoulders, chuckling anxiously.

"Why, I'm going to sharpen my sword," Harry purred. Flashing his teeth at the gray-haired demon in parody of a polite smile, he turned and glided into the darkened corridor, moving soundlessly through the shadows.

XxXxX

"What happened to your finger?"

Harry jumped at the question, lips curling in an unhappy growl even as his eyes popped open. He glared up at the blond hovering over him, hands tightening slowly around the edge of the blanket draped across his lap. "I cut it," he muttered finally, lifting his uninjured hand to rub at his eyes. Yawning widely, he rolled his head to the side and glanced at the clock perched upon Draco's night table. His jaw snapped closed with a click, emerald orbs widening at the time. Rolling his head back into the middle of his pillow, he frowned up at the Slytherin. "It's a quarter after seven, why are you up?"

"It's Saturday. Saturday is my favourite day. Do you know why Saturday is my favourite day, Harry?" Draco asked, tearing the blanket from Harry's hands and tossing it carelessly onto the floor. Ignoring the irritated snarl that slid from the raven-haired male's lips, the blond moved to the end of his bed and threw open the lid of his trunk. He rifled through the trunk's contents, heedless of the other wizard's muted curses and protests. Seconds later he pulled a pair of dark trousers from the tangled knot of clothes and heaved them at Harry's head. "Because I get to go shopping in Hogsmeade. Now, get up." With a brisk clap of his hands, he whirled around and strode from the dorm room.

Groaning softly, Harry pulled the trousers off his face and sat up. He'd had exactly thirteen minutes and fifty-three seconds of down time. On the other hand, he had scouted Hogsmeade and made an attempt at sharpening his sword. Said attempt hadn't gone as smoothly as one would've hoped, but that's what one got when their favourite weapon was crafted of a metal that was poisonous to them. Frowning, he lifted his hand and peered at the small gash on the index finger of his left hand. The wound was already swollen and inflamed, appearing three times as large as it really was. He lifted the finger and slid it into his mouth, grimacing at the lingering taste of iron. "I hate shopping."

"I don't hear you getting dressed!"

Draco's voice carried up the corridor and ricocheted around the long chamber, making Harry wince and glare in the direction of the door. Drawing back his lips, he hissed loudly before swinging his feet to the floor and standing. He pulled the pants on and jammed his feet into the pair of boots he'd been wearing earlier, nearly yanking his feet from them when he realized they were still soaked from his foray into Hogsmeade. Gritting his teeth, he grabbed his warmest cloak from the trunk at the end of the bed and slogged from the room. "I don't see why I couldn't have slept in a little longer," he mumbled as he entered the Common Room, earning himself disgusted looks from the crowd of Slytherins gathered around the chamber.

"We're having breakfast at the Three Broomsticks," Draco stated, rising from his chair before the fireplace. He gave Harry a long disapproving look before shaking his head and lifting his mittens from the table next to the chair he'd been lounging in.

Rising gracefully from the adjacent chair, Blaise set his Charms text on the velvet cushion. "It's a tradition," he explained to Harry, smoothing out the folds of his winter cloak. His eyes slid up Harry's legs, halting at the narrow expanse of skin visible between the folds of his wrinkled cloak. "Perhaps you should put a shirt on before we leave."

Glancing down at his bare chest, Harry sighed and trudged back to his dorm. He was almost to his bed when the door slammed closed, the sound swinging him around. A grin twisted his features as he stared at the wizard leaning arrogantly against the door, a glowing wand clutched in his hand. Tipping his head, the dark-haired demon smiled and wiggled his fingers invitingly.

"What did you do with Pansy?" Theodore Nott demanded, leveling his wand at the taller wizard's chest. He strode forward quickly, taking comfort in the fact that Harry hadn't yet drawn his wand. "I know you did something with her. Where is she?" His final question was screamed, the glowing tip of his wand coming to rest on the other Slytherin's sternum.

Calmly watching the wand indent the tanned skin of his chest, Harry smiled. "Have you spoken with our Head of House about your concerns?" He drawled, shifting his weight onto the balls of his feet in preparation for flight. Adrenaline swarmed through his veins, increasing the beat of his heart and quickening the air to and from his lungs.

The sudden pounding on the dorm room door startled Theo into spinning around, the tip of his wand now pointing at the bolted portal. Before he had a chance to shift the glowing point back to his original target, a pair of hands wrapped themselves around his throat, fingers tightening dangerously. He dropped his wand, mouth opening on a silent scream. His fingers scrabbled at the hands holding him as he gasped for oxygen, the heels of his boots drumming against his attacker's shins as he was lifted slowly off the ground.

Harry kept his eyes on the top of Theodore's head, lips moving in an inaudible count as he waited for the wizard to pass out. His shouted name had him lifting his orbs and glaring at the door, tensing when the Slytherin in his arms went still. He considered dropping the wizard to the floor but changed his mind. Instead, he tossed him onto his bed and yanked the curtains closed. "I'm coming," he hollered at the door, practically tearing the lid off his trunk in pursuit of a shirt. The first garment that fell into his grasp was the one he tugged on. A quick look in Draco's mirror as he breezed by revealed a large stain and a tiny tear. Shrugging his shoulders, he yanked his winter cloak on and unbolted the door. "You have no patience," he informed the frowning blond standing in the corridor.

"That's because you've used it all," Draco snapped, grabbing Harry by the sleeve. With a frustrated sigh, he dragged the dark-haired Slytherin down the hall, bellowing for Blaise as soon as they hit the Common Room. Casting a glance at the ornate clock, he groaned and hurried the pair toward the entrance portal. "We're going to be late."

They were going to be late, but as far as Harry was concerned, he was going to be early. Very early. Sighing, he fell into step beside the blond, pondering the necessity of traditions. Another twenty minutes of sleep would have done him good, given him a chance to recharge his battery, so to speak. On the other hand, the sooner he caught Voldemort, the sooner he could be back in Hell. And that was a beautiful thought.

XxXxX

It was approximately seventeen minutes after ten when Harry, Draco, and Blaise left The Three Broomsticks. Five minutes after that, the first pained scream tore through the air. Harry's head immediately jerked in the direction of the cry, his entire body tensing as the shrill wail was repeated. Shouts of terror filled the streets of Hogsmeade. Students ran in fear, mindlessly seeking refuge in the small shops lining the street. A burst of magic lit the sky, taking on the form of an entwined snake and skull. Glaring up at the image hovering over the small town, Harry chuckled. Voldemort had arrived.

"We've got to get back to Hogwarts!" Draco shouted, pale eyes flashing as he grabbed at Harry's hand. Blaise nodded encouragingly from the blond's other side, his wand held aloft as his gaze darted back and forth.

"We won't make it in time," Harry said calmly, detaching his hand from the blond's. "We'll have to take shelter in one of the stores." Giving neither wizard time to think or react to his comment, he herded them into the nearest shop. And then, he deliberately allowed himself to be swept down the street by a crowd of panicked witches. He heard Draco scream his name but ignored the desperate plea for his return. Instead, he ducked into the first alley the terrified group passed.

Harry prowled down the narrow alley, his chin lifted slightly as inhaled. Magic crackled angrily ahead of him; flashes of red and blue zipping past the alley's mouth. Brimstone and sulphur stung his nostrils, the smell luring him onward. His eyes narrowed as he stepped from the alley, head turning to the left in an attempt to recapture the fading scent. A blur of red in his peripheral vision had him diving forward and slamming into ground. He snarled as he tumbled over the snow, heightened senses searching for the source of his current dilemma. When he finally slid to a stop, he rolled onto his stomach and glared at the only other person on the street A wizard garbed in long black robes stood menacingly in the middle of the path, a glowing wand held tightly in a gloved hand.

Pushing himself smoothly to his feet, the Retriever glanced down at his ruined robes and sighed. "You've gotten me dirty," he stated, lifting his eyes to the silent figure watching him. In an explosion of black, he charged the masked wizard, knocking the wand from his hand with an effortless flick of his wrist. The yelp of fear the dark wizard loosed made Harry chuckle even as bodily tossed the man several feet. A grin of pure pleasure crossed his face as the Death Eater crashed into the wall of a store and slid to rest against the foundation. He glided slowly after the wizard, giving him time to regain his feet.

"Now, where is Voldemort?" Harry demanded, brushing at his robes as he strode forward. His nostrils flared at the smell of demon magic wafting off the man's clothes, the scent making him lick his lips and glide eagerly closer.

The Death Eater rose shakily and lifted a hand to readjust his mask, ignoring the blood seeping through the cloth covering his face. Leveling a finger at Harry, he cried, "death to all half-blood scum!"

Frowning, Harry sprang forward and tangled his fingers in the wizard's mask, tearing it off in a fit of fury. "Silly wizard, I'm not even mortal." The white fabric he'd ripped from the man's face floated to the ground, landing unceremoniously in a puddle of slush as he stared into a familiar pair of steely orbs. "Draco?" He asked in confusion. Before he was given a chance to recover, a burst of green exploded before his eyes, staggering him. Hissing in pain, he collapsed to his knees, swiping angrily at his orbs. When he finally managed to pry one lid up, he found himself staring into the vial dangling from his silver wristband. As he gazed at the liquid, it rolled and swirled, shifting from a brilliant emerald to the darkest of blacks. His entire body tensed, heart leaping into his throat as snow crunched softly behind him.

"Why, if it isn't Harry Potter, Hades favourite lapdog."

Rising smoothly, Harry whirled around and bowed at the waist, giving the ancient demon his due. He straightened without waiting for permission, sliding back several steps and halting on the balls of his feet. "I bring tidings from the underworld, Lord Voldemort, and an order of execution." A quick glance up and down the abandoned street showed that the Death Eater with Draco's eyes had vanished.

"An order of execution?" Voldemort repeated, chin tipping upward as he frowned at the sky. With a shake of his head, he dropped his gaze to Harry, brow drawn in thought. His ruby eyes narrowed as he glared at Harry, fingers rising to rest on his chin. "Whose?"

Lips curving in a devilish smile, the Retriever reached for his sword, wiggling his fingers on the hilt as it dropped into his palm. Hefting the blade, he glanced past the length of metal, watching as realization flickered into Voldemort's red eyes. "Why, yours of course."

"Hah," Voldemort scoffed, "Hades wouldn't sacrifice one of his own. I'm the second most powerful demon in Hell. He needs me." Tipping his head, he glared at Harry; carefully assessing the way the lesser demon was moving impatiently back and forth. He slid one of his hands into the pocket of his dark robe, fingers sifting through its contents.

"I have my orders and I shall see them carried out with great pleasure," Harry retorted. Slowly he began to circle the High Court demon, fingers caressing the hilt of his iron sword as he moved. One strike was all he needed. One moment of inattention in which he could slide his blade through the powerful demon's heart. His surroundings seemed to dim as he stalked his prey, his entire being becoming focused on Voldemort. The even tempo of his heart leapt to follow the snake-faced demon's. Each exhalation of his breath perfectly matching Voldemort's.

"Do you recognize this book, Retriever?" The High Court demon asked, lifting a thick tome from his pocket. A condescending smile slid over his features at the lesser demon's angered growl. "I'll assume you do," he purred. Giving a shake of his head, Voldemort began to flip the delicate pages of the grimoire.

Eyeing the book resting firmly in the ancient demon's hands, Harry stilled. The tip of his sword drooped slowly until it was pointed harmlessly at the ground. "Where did you get that?" His voice was a no more than a soft whisper; a rush of air escaping his mouth. Fear tightened his chest. Albus Dumbledore might not have stood a chance at banishing him, but Tom Marvolo Riddle was perfectly capable of accomplishing the feat.

"I stumbled upon it in my travels," Voldemort muttered, frowning as he flipped several pages. The High Court demon absently chewed on his bottom lip, eyes dancing over the various spells and incantations that were used to control his kin. His expression brightened suddenly and he shifted the grimoire to one hand, drawing his wand with the other. "After all, a good grimoire is so very hard to find." Shooting the Retriever a triumphant grin, he cleared his throat and began to read.

Goose bumps raced across Harry's body at the first trickle of Latin, his knuckles whitening on the hilt of his sword. "Apparently not," he breathed, thinking of the second grimoire tucked away inside Dumbledore's study. Demon magic caused the air to crackle, small flickers of silver and white and black that danced eerily overhead. Drawing a deep breath, he lifted his sword and stepped forward. He couldn't allow Voldemort to finish the incantation. With that thought in mind, he sprang. His battle cry rang through the street, the roar heralding the descent of his blade.

A lazy flick of Voldemort's wand sent him hurtling backwards, arms and legs churning futilely. He crashed through a storefront window, snarling in pain as a stray piece of glass buried itself in his back. When he came to a halt amidst a pile of glass and books, he lay still, staring blindly at the ceiling. "I hate High Court demons." Rumbling unhappily, he climbed to his feet and stormed toward the gaping hole in the front of the shop, stopping only to lift his sword from the rubble.

Voldemort stood confidently in the middle of the road, his voice menacing as he recited a traditional banishing curse. He paused only to watch Harry climb out of the shop, arching a nonexistent eyebrow as the Retriever swore angrily. When the dark-haired demon raised glowing emerald eyes to glare at him, he quickened his incantation.

"You forget yourself. Upon the mortal plane, I reign supreme." Hefting his sword into a comfortable position, Harry prowled forward. He glided silently toward Voldemort like a stalking wolf, his chin held low and his narrowed eyes locked on the High Court demon. This time, when Voldemort waved his wand, Harry responded in kind. A flick of his wrist sent energy streaming outwards; the burst of magic clashing with the ancient demon's before swallowing it. Giving a laugh that would seem crazed to many, he leapt the short distance between them and raised his sword. The iron blade sang sweetly in his ears, the metal flashing as it fell.

Before the sword could slide into his chest, Voldemort swung the grimoire. The book caught Harry in the side of the face, ruining his aim but not preventing him from pushing the blade home. Shrieking in outrage, the High Court demon dropped the heavy tome, his hands falling to rest atop Harry's on the hilt of the weapon. Blood pulsed over their entwined fingers before trickling to the earth where it made a puddle in the snow. Brow arching, Voldemort lifted his gaze from his hands and smiled. "Retriever, you missed my heart."

Brow furrowing, Harry lowered his eyes to their hands. His palms tingled uncomfortably, the sensation growing stronger as Voldemort began to chuckle. Lips curling, he struggled to free himself, and failed. Pure, unrestrained power flowed through his palms, burning its way up his arms. His eyes flew wide as his mouth opened on a scream of pain. In a burst of raw demon magic, he was thrown across the road.

Shouts and the cry of 'Auror' drew Voldemort's attention from the prone Retriever. Shooting an annoyed glance at the sword he'd been spitted with, he heaved a frustrated sigh and then apparated away, taking the prized weapon with him.

XxXxX

Harry awoke to his screeched name, the yell making him writhe in pain and clutch at his pounding head. The hunk of glass embedded in his back tore relentless at his flesh. The palms of his hands burned; undoubtedly from the pulse of dark magic Voldemort had sent through the sword. He slid one eye open, blinking as the sun's rays pierced the watering orb.

Suddenly, panicked hands were on his shoulders and his name was whispered loudly. Rolling his head, he squinted up at the person and snarled. He swung wildly, the usually effortless movement seeming to sap all his strength. Curling his lips, he growled at the golden individual hovering over him. No angel would drag him to Heaven as long as he drew breath. He craved the fires of Hell.

"Harry? Harry, it's Draco." The hovering figure shifted, placing its face directly above Harry's. A relieved groan escaped the Retriever as he stared into orbs the colour of ice. Remembering the Death Eater with identical eyes, he sniffed, examining the wizard's scent before relaxing.

"I'm going to call for a mediwitch, Harry." Draco said, ignoring the hitch in his voice. He attempted to push himself to his feet only to find Harry's fingers clutching the cloth of his cloak. "I'll only be gone for a minute," the blond soothed, patting the clutching hand as he once again placed his face over the dark-haired wizard's.

The thought of another mortal learning his secrets had Harry stiffening. Orbs narrowing, he peered up at the blond, his mind racing. There was only one thing he could. Drawing a deep breath, he flexed his aura and loosened his hold on his magic. "You owe me," he rasped. He lifted a blood-covered hand and curled his fingers around the wizard's pointed chin, drawing him slowly downward.

* * *

A/n: Oops, imagine ending a chapter like that! Anyway, thanks to everyone who took the time to read and review.

thrnbrooke – Severus would have relayed the info but he was prevented from doing so.  
mangacat201 – Harry cashes in next chapter.  
TorringMay – I always try and fit more H/D in but its actually quite hard. The way this plot is going . . .  
blkmagicklily - you've given me an idea, thank-you.  
pleiadeswolfe – and next chapter, well, lets just say its very busy, and contains a plot twist no one saw coming.


	12. A Demon's Kiss

DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter and all other characters and locations belong to J. K. Rowling.

_Warning: a little HD action ahead_

**

* * *

Chapter Twelve - A Demon's Kiss**

Harry drew Draco down toward him, his emerald eyes drifting closed as his hand slid from the blond's chin to the nape of his neck. He pressed their lips together lightly, keeping the kiss chaste as he awaited Draco's response. When the blond let out a muffled whimper, he smirked internally and slid his fingers upward, entangling them in the silky locks. His tongue ran along the wizard's bottom lip playfully, teasingly.

And suddenly, there was nothing but them. The mingling of their breath. The touch of their chests. They were all that mattered. All that existed.

In a gasp, Draco opened his mouth, allowing Harry's tongue to plunge inside. His hands slid into the dark-haired wizard's locks, fingers curling tightly around the bloody strands. Coyly, he brushed his tongue against Harry's, inviting him deeper. As their tongues dueled for dominance, their hands tugged and clutched, massaged and worshiped. Finally, in need of air, he pulled away from the other wizard. He stared into shimmering emeralds while he gasped for breath, running his tongue over his lips. A gentle tug had him sinking back down, pressing his lips urgently to Harry's.

Trying to concentrate while kissing Draco was proving difficult. Nibbling on the blond's lower lip, Harry gathered the tattered remains of his aura. His magic had been shredded by Voldemort's; the force of the raw power tearing its way through his body and core. In order to make the necessary repairs to himself, he had to do exactly what he had told Sirius not to do. He had to feed off of Draco's magic.

Draco mumbled softly as Harry's lips left his, slipping down his chin in a liquid slide of tongue. Panted gasps against his throat had him tipping his head, exposing the elegant line of his neck. His fingers clenched in the raven locks he held, blue eyes widening as Harry swirled his tongue over the junction of his throat. He was unprepared for the sudden stab of teeth against his skin, the rough love bite drawing a moan from deep within him. His body tightened as pleasure surged through him, the powerful wave closing his eyes and wringing a soft cry from his bruised lips.

Ignoring the pain the blond's wriggling was causing, Harry ran his tongue lightly over the needle fine pricks he'd placed on the wizard's throat. When Draco cried out again and shuddered, he struck. As he laved blood from the blond's throat, his aura twisted and twined around the Slytherin's writhing body, feeding off the surge in his magic. In a shimmer of power, their auras merged; Harry's shoring itself up with blond's fluctuating energy.

With a soft sigh, Draco slumped against him, his body going limp. His arms tightened reflexively, sliding down the wizard's back to clasp him closely. Lifting his mouth, he inhaled hungrily and closed his eyes. Around him, his aura flared and danced, the tears and gashes no longer visible. He reeled his magic in tiredly, pushing it back into its place within his chest. A distraught cry was the last thing he heard as darkness rose up and consumed him.

XxXxX

Harry's eyes flew open and he snarled. Before he could sit up, a restraining hand was placed on his chest, pinning him to the bed. He allowed himself to be held down, his emerald orbs blazing unhappily as he glared up at the mediwitch who had treated him before. A rustle of cloth turned his head, his gaze landing on a thoughtful looking Dumbledore. As the witch removed her hand and dragged the scratchy hospital blankets up to his chin, he eyed the wizard, hands fisting beneath the linen. Physically, he felt fine. His magic was still weaker then it should have been, but that would change in time.

"Your magic stores have been greatly depleted, Harry. I have no idea as to what you and Mister Malfoy were doing before you were found, but I suggest you refrain from doing it again." Madame Pomfrey instructed before giving a sharp nod to Dumbledore and stalking off.

"Why don't you tell me, Harry, exactly what you and Mister Malfoy were doing," Albus Dumbledore said softly, the angry glint in his eyes belying his calm tone. He moved closer to the brass bed, his wand appearing subtly in his hand.

Eyeing the wand, Harry sat up slowly and rolled his shoulders. He did a quick inventory of his battle wounds, testing the flex and pull of his muscles. When he was sure his movements wouldn't be hampered, he relaxed back against the pillows. "No," he said simply. A small inhalation was all he needed to smell the wizard's mounting anger.

"You endangered the life of one of my students, again. I believe that gives me every right to know what you did to Mister Malfoy." Albus rasped, the tip of his wand beginning to glow a threatening shade of red.

Harry couldn't help the smirk that slid across his face. "What I did was completely consensual. A little pleasure for a little magic. A perfectly fair trade in my opinion. Of course-"

"Enough!" Dumbledore barked, his raised voice causing the mediwitch to whirl around and glare angrily at them. Drawing a calming breath, he stared at the demon sitting before him, his blue eyes blazing. "I've had enough of your presence within my castle. At every turn you've ignored the rules we agreed upon. You're completely reckless! Give me one reason why I shouldn't send you straight back into the depths of Hell." He was panting when he finished, his face flushed a brilliant shade of scarlet.

Stilling at the threat, the Retriever carefully began to consider his options. He could lie, which was always the easiest solution, or he could tell the truth. Licking his lips, he peered around the room, taking in the beds filled with injured witches and wizards. If there was one thing that would get the old wizard off his back, it was the name of the demon he was hunting. So, the truth it was. "Voldemort," Harry breathed loudly, his eyebrows arching.

"What about him?" Albus questioned, taking a step away from the bed as the dark-haired male shifted. His eyes narrowed suspiciously, fingers tightening on his worn wand.

Smiling victoriously, Harry sank deeper into his pillows. He sighed dreamily, replaying the moment when he had plunged his sword into Voldemort's chest. The lovely thought was ruined only by the fact that he'd allowed the High Court demon the upper hand and had taken a grimoire to the side of the head for it. "Today, I pushed my sword through his chest. I almost had his black heart spit upon my blade."

"You're here for Voldemort? Voldemort is the demon you're pursuing?" The old wizard asked in shock. He blinked slowly, extending a hand to grasp the brass footboard of Harry's bed.

"Strange coincidence, isn't it?" Harry mused, pulling his left hand from under the blankets. He examined his nails while he waited for the stunned mortal to recover, smiling at the line of dried blood under his thumbnail. Lifting his hand, he slid the finger into his mouth, sucking at the blood lazily. Withdrawing the digit, he looked at Dumbledore. "You do understand, don't you, that sending me home will doom your entire planet? None of your magics can compete with a High Court demons. He'll toy with you simply for his amusement before killing you. Your students will be enslaved, your castle raped of its magics, your plane will be completely and utterly destroyed. And all because you sent your last hope to Hell."

Turning glazed eyes upon the young demon, Dumbledore nodded slowly. "You may stay," he mumbled, pushing himself away from bed. In a daze, he plodded from the room, ignoring Madame Pomfrey's concerned call.

Slumping back against his pillows, Harry watched as Dumbledore walked from the room. No sooner had the doors closed behind the wizard than Sirius appeared at his side, lips compressed worriedly. Narrowing his eyes, the raven-haired demon glared angrily at his companion, his nails creating small furrows in the hospital linens. He breathed in slowly, trying to leash his anger lest he strike out at the minor demon. "Where were you?" His snarled question caused Sirius to flinch and back nervously away from the bed.

"With Severus Snape, exactly where you ordered me to be," the minor demon retorted bravely. He chuckled weakly at the low growl that trickled from Harry's mouth, lifting his hands before him in a calming gesture. "I was merely following your orders. And once the battle started, I couldn't help but stay with him. He's very skilled with dark magic. Why, he even stunned another Death Eater in the back while rushing to rescue some little witch. You know what? That wizard would make a wonderful demon. He's creepy and dark and maybe even a little eccentric. Suppose, you ask Hades if-"

"Absolutely not," Harry snapped. He folded his arms and narrowed his eyes, a frown sliding across his face. A shiver slid down his spine at the mere thought of asking Hades for a favour. The last demon who'd had the balls to ask the God of Death for anything had taken up residence in the throne room . . . as a footstool. He could only begin to imagine the inane tasks the God would come up with for him to complete if he asked for another gopher. "Besides, he's alive. Now, pay attention, I have a task for you."

"But I was alive," Sirius whined.

"Yes, but then you died. Now, I need you to-"

Snorting, Sirius rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Like you didn't have anything to do with my untimely demise." Shooting the Retriever a knowing look, the minor demon wandered slowly around the narrow brass bed, fingers trailing across the footboard.

"That's murder. And beneath me." Harry stated, unfolding his arms and letting them drop to the sheet lying over him. He slid further down in the bed, eyelashes dipping to shield gleaming emeralds.

"You're a demon," Sirius muttered, "you have no morals." He continued to circle the bed absently, his eyes widening with interest as he noticed a folded piece of paper resting on the small metal table next to the bed. Curiousity drew him forward, his chin lifting slightly as he tried to read the neat scribbles upon the parchment.

Harry sat perfectly still, waiting for Sirius to wander within striking distance. He let out a soft breath as the minor demon reached for the abandoned piece of parchment, his fingers flexing eagerly. In an explosion of movement, he lunged. His fingers slid around Sirius' throat and locked, preventing him from pulling away. "If you don't shut up and pay attention, I will kill you," he promised in a hiss. Tightening his grip on the lesser demon's throat, he tugged him closer, watching Sirius' eyes widen. "Voldemort has my sword. I want it back. You are to go to his headquarters and retrieve it. Did you get all that?"

Sirius nodded slowly, his face inches away from Harry's. He gulped audibly at the menacing grin that crept over the Retriever's features; the look making the hair on his arms rise. As soon as he nodded, the dark-haired demon released him, shoving him roughly away. His hands rose accordingly to rub his sore throat, fingers brushing over the bruised skin. "I don't suppose you'd settle for a different sword?"

"That blade is perfectly balanced and was forged specifically for me. Go and get it." Harry rumbled, his patience coming to an end. The minor demon must have realized he'd pressed the Retriever beyond his limits because he vanished quickly, leaving Harry grasping wildly at empty air. Sitting back with a disgruntled huff, he folded his arms and peered around the brightly lit chamber. Many of the beds were currently occupied by slumbering witches and wizards; the casualties of the Hogsmeade attack. His argument with Sirius had disturbed none of them, a fact that had him sighing in relief.

A door at the far end of the room swung open and Draco appeared, followed closely by Madame Pomfrey. The witch ushered the blond toward his bed, doing a quick visual scan of the room as she mumbled under her breath. She frowned when she saw Harry propped up on his pillows, her lips compressing unhappily. "Both of you need to learn how to stay out of trouble." Shaking her head, she waited impatiently for Draco to climb into his bed before yanking the covers over his pajama clad legs. "After you've had something sweet to eat, I'll release the pair of you. Until then, stay in your beds. And no talking."

Rolling his eyes, Harry slipped back down in his bed and began to contemplate everything that had happened. Albus Dumbledore now knew whom he was searching for. This would either aid him in his hunt or bring it to an abrupt end. The missing grimoire also disturbed him. In the wrong hands, Voldemort's for example, the ancient tome could be extremely dangerous. Not only could it banish demons, but it could also summon them. Just thinking of the army the High Court demon could create sent a shiver of fear sliding down his spine. Glancing toward the floor, he prayed Hades was keeping an eye on his demons.

XxXxX

Sirius tiptoed down a dark corridor, his shoulders hunched and his eyes wide. He moved furtively through the shadows, glancing into the rooms he passed in search of Harry's missing sword. Any other demon would have shrugged the loss off and gotten a new weapon, but not Harry. "Not Harry," he mused softly. No, Harry had to have _his_ sword. The one forged specifically for him. The one that was perfectly balanced and lovingly maintained. "Stupid sword."

A whiff of blood had him arching an eyebrow in interest. He followed the smell, having to work five times harder than any Retriever to stay on the scent. His nose led him to a closed door. Glancing back and forth down the dark corridor, he shrugged and boldly swung the door open, stepping inside warily and peering nervously around. "Shit," he muttered, staring at the dead wizard lying in a small puddle of blood. Sliding along the wall, he examined the deceased mortal from a safe distance. His throat was torn and any magic he may have had was gone, torn ruthlessly from his body. Sirius grimaced and looked away, his eyes scanning the rest of the room. Chair, fireplace, bookcase, chair, tab-

And there, lying forgotten upon a table, sat Harry's beloved sword. The blade was covered in blood, the liquid sizzling and boiling upon the thick length of iron. Grinning triumphantly, he strode toward the weapon and extended a hand. His fingers had barely brushed the hilt when a shadow separated from the others. Jerking his digits back, he glared in horror at Voldemort.

"Your name?" The High Court demon demanded, ruby eyes locked on the trespasser.

"Ah, Sirius Black?" The minor demon whimpered, shooting a longing look at the sword. He cringed as the ancient demon glided toward him, dark robes flowing around his body. Sirius' eyes went immediately to the gaping hole in the fabric, the gash located almost directly above Voldemort's heart.

Voldemort snorted and shook his head. "Harry Potter's gopher? How amusing," the High Court demon mocked. Tipping his head, he eyed the lesser demon, a smirk forming upon his snake like features. "You know, you could join me. I'll make you my second in command. I'm going to rule the mortal plane, you see. Why should you, an intelligent demon, pander to the whims of a Retriever? They're turncoats. They don't even deserve to exist upon the same plane as the rest of us! Yes, you'll join me, and together, we'll take over the world!"

Oh Hades, he's really insane. There were rumours . . . but one should never really believe gossip. "Personally, I'd love to, but there's this thing I really have to do." Sirius stammered, eyes darting back and forth between the High Court demon and the iron sword.

"Perhaps I could sway you . . . Is there something you would like? A mortal slave? My favour?" Voldemort asked, red eyes sliding to the weapon that had almost killed him. He reached out slowly and rested his hand on the gold inlaid hilt, lifting the sword slowly from the table.

"I need to think on it!" Sirius shrilled, panic tinging his voice as he sprang backwards and vanished. His landing was rough and it took him a moment to get his bearings. He glanced around himself worriedly, relief seizing him when he saw Hogwarts glowing in the distance. Wrapping his arms around his waist, he began to trek toward the castle, silently wondering if he could send Harry's raven to Hell without him noticing. After all, it couldn't be that hard to find an iron sword that was perfectly balanced and had a gold inlaid hilt.

XxXxX

As soon as Harry entered the dungeons, he slowed. Something didn't feel right. He moved forward cautiously, allowing Draco to walk on ahead of him. Eyes narrowing, he swung his gaze back and forth, seeking among the shadows. He breathed in slowly, analyzing the various smells the air currents brought him. So many different scents, all of them layered and entwined, practically impossible to separate. Brow furrowing, he crept forward quietly.

Magic slid across his skin, the faint tingling bringing him to an abrupt stop. His aura flickered in response, the power unraveling from his core only to find itself fettered. With great trepidation, Harry slowly lowered his eyes and stared at the interlocking stones of the dungeon floor. He drew a deep breath as he narrowed his glowing orbs, curling a lip in anger at the familiar scent of Hermione Granger. An angered swipe of his hand destroyed the carefully placed charm, revealing the pentagram that had been drawn upon the ancient rock. Blazing emeralds leapt from the hastily sketched runes to the bold Latin, hands fisting as realization struck.

Demon Trap.

Dropping to his knees in disbelief, he extended a hand toward the magical dome that contained him. The hair along his arms rose at the first brush of his fingers, the feeling forcing him to withdraw his searching hand. Warily, he lowered his hand and stroked the dark stone beneath him, the tips of his digits millimeters away from the thick white line. Around him, his magic flared and swirled, seeking a means of escape. He frowned as he lifted his hand from the stone, staring at his reddened palm with fiery eyes. Liquid Iron and salt; a dangerous combination . . . to a demon. Someone had done their homework. Rising fluidly, he began to scan the shadows.

"Harry? Are you coming?" Draco demanded, turning around and lifting a hand imperiously. He frowned when the raven-haired male remained silent, beginning to tap one booted foot impatiently. "I don't have all night to stand around, Harry. Some of us still have to read chapter fourteen for history class on Monday." Arching a slender brow at the frustrated hiss that slipped from his companion's mouth, he sighed and started back to Harry's side.

"Stop, Malfoy." A voice commanded from the shadows. In a hiss of silk, Hermione Granger, Ronald Weasley, and Neville Longbottom appeared in the corridor. All three clutched their wands, the shimmering tips pointed shakily at Harry.

Pale eyes widening in disbelief, Draco planted his hands on his hips and sneered. "Well, if it isn't the Golden Gryffindors. Got lost on the way back to your tower, I see. Personally, I'm not surprised. What with the fact that you follow a useless simpleton." Snorting in contempt, he glided closer to Harry, shooting the dark-haired wizard a worried glance.

"He's a demon, Malfoy, sent by Voldemort." Hermione stated, sliding her wand into her pocket. She swung her knapsack into her arms, fumbling with the clasp as she attempted to keep her gaze on Harry. With obvious effort, she yanked a thick tome from the bag's interior, lifting it so everyone could see the cover. Shooting an anxious glance at the blond Slytherin, she opened the book to a marked page and cleared her throat before beginning to read.

"And I'm Merlin," Draco snarled sarcastically. Giving a shake of his head, he drew his wand and advanced on the trio. "So, which one of you geniuses came up with this one? Come on, don't be ashamed. It was you, wasn't it, Weasel?" Clucking in disapproval, the blond flicked his wand, watching smugly as the two wizards jumped. A graceful wave of Harry's hand had him stilling, a frown sliding over his features as the other wizard turned glowing emeralds upon Granger.

"You're either very brave, or very stupid." Harry purred, fingers drifting to the silver band circling his wrist. The four remaining charms rattled against each other, catching the faint light of the torches placed sporadically on the dungeon walls. He shifted in the confines of the trap, eyes scanning the chalked lines for weakness or error. "Do you even understand the words you speak, witch?"

"Keep going, Hermione." Ron ordered, shifting the point of his wand to Draco. He licked his lips nervously, wide blue eyes darting back and forth between the pair of Slytherins.

"I suggest you stop, mudblood." Draco commanded. He shot a nervous glance at Harry, slightly perturbed as to why the dark-haired Slytherin hadn't reached for his wand or made any effort to move.

Face contorting in outrage, Ron let out an angered hiss and brandished his wand. "Don't call her that, Death Eater." He narrowed his blue eyes as the Slytherin prowled forward, sidling closer to Hermione in case the blond attempted anything.

Glaring angrily at the grimoire the witch held, Harry privately plotted the death of the demon ordered to destroy all the books. Inhaling deeply, he opened his mouth to issue an order only to have a groan slip past his lips. Pain flared suddenly, gnawing its way up his spine and forcing him to knees. Each word the witch spoke seemed like a dagger piercing his chest. The blood pumping through his veins boiled, bringing a sweat to his forehead as he gasped for air. His heart laboured, pathetically trying to maintain its frantic rhythm. A whimper spilled from his mouth as he raked his nails across the stone floor, leaving deep gouges in the ancient rock.

"Stop it!" Draco roared, lunging toward Granger. He made a wild grab for the thick tome she held, his attempt thwarted by the sudden appearance Longbottom in his path. Hand fisting, he plowed his knuckles into the Gryffindors face. Teeth grit, he raised his other hand. "Accio book!" He snarled, waving his wand.

In a swish of black robes, Severus Snape arrived, his wand held tightly as he tried to determine who he should yell at first. "What's going on here?" He snapped, obsidian orbs narrowing.

His appearance did nothing to deter Hermione from her mission. Curling her fingers around the book, she continued to read breathlessly. She struggled to hold the tome as Draco's magic wrapped itself around the grimoire, planting her feet and leaning backwards. Taking a much needed breath, she lifted her eyes and shouted the final two words.

"I demand someone tell me what's going on?" Snape bellowed, orbs widening as the Gryffindor witch released the book she clutched. The tome shot from her hands and slammed into his godson's chest, knocking the blond backwards into the wall. "Detention, Granger. Now-"

Throwing his head back, Harry screamed. His cry brought silence to the group, turning them all to where he sprawled gracelessly. Fire exploded suddenly within the circle, flames of red and orange that leapt to the dungeon ceiling. In seconds, it was over. The blaze faded, leaving nothing but a scorched spot upon the stone floor.

XxXxX

Sirius sank back into the shadows, his gray eyes wide in terror. He wrapped his arms tightly around himself and shivered. Harry was gone. Blinking back tears, he lowered his gaze to the blackened stone. Nothing remained, not even a pile of ash. His sadness and fear were washed away on a wave of anger. Lips curling, he loosed a crazed snarl, taking pleasure in the way the group of mortals jumped in fright. Standing silently in the darkness, he watched as Severus Snape herded the four students toward the stairs at the far end of the hall. When they had gone, he slunk from the shadows.

"Harry," he whispered, circling the pentagram. Sinking to one knee, he reached toward the burned stone, his hand getting no further than the circle of Liquid Iron and salt. A smile curved his lips and he raised his eyes, the gray orbs shimmering maliciously. "I'll avenge you, my friend."

A/n: Thanks to everyone who took the time to read and review. And, no, it's not the end.

sbkar – Europe, eh? Only in my wildest dreams.  
hieisdragoness – Sorry, this chapter made up for the cliffhanger, right?


	13. Hell, Sweet Hell

DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter and all other characters and locations belong to J. K. Rowling.

**Chapter Thirteen - Hell, Sweet Hell**

* * *

A soothing warmth drew Harry from the arms of Morpheus. Stirring sleepily, he rolled over and stretched, arching his back and pointing his toes. The pull of recently abused muscles had him moaning in pleasure and relaxing, one hand rising to absently scratch his chin. He sniffed delicately and smiled, listening to the familiar sound of lava burbling and slurping in the craters throughout his lair. His brow furrowed as his brain began to put the pieces together. Emerald orbs flew open suddenly, staring at the blackened rock above him in comprehension.

"Shit!" He snarled, jerking into a sitting position. His lips curled back and he loosed a feral growl, eyes sweeping the cavern he called home. In a fluid movement, he shot to his feet, his black wings rustling softly as he stormed from the small cave. Stalking through the darkened corridors of Hell, he began a mental litany of why he shouldn't hunt Hermione Granger down and kill her. By the time he reached his destination, his eyes were blazing and his hands were clenching, dagger like nails cutting into the palms of his hands.

With a threatening rumble, he knocked a patiently waiting imp out of his way and crashed through the doors of Hades throne room. His unannounced arrival brought immediate silence to the large chamber, the eyes of dozens of demons landing on him with malicious intent. Flashing fangs at a harried looking messenger, he swept around the muttering group, his attention focused completely on the tall blond sitting arrogantly upon Hell's throne. He halted before the God of Death and made a quick bow, dipping his head and wings respectfully before straightening. "I want the name of the demon given the task of destroying the grimoires," he hissed.

Slender eyebrows arching, Hades slumped deeper into his throne, the fingers of one hand beginning to bounce with restrained energy. "If you wish to address me, Retriever, you shall do so from your knees." Eyes of the palest blue regarded the raven-haired demon, daring him to disobey the softly spoken command.

Dropping gracefully to his knees, Harry placed fisted hands upon his bare thighs and focused glowing orbs on the stone between Hades feet. "I want the name of the demon given the task of destroying the grimoires," he repeated. His fingers tugged unconsciously at the edges of the dark kilt he wore, returning the garment to an acceptable position around his muscled thighs. With an audible snap, he closed his fluttering wings and held them tightly against his back, taking comfort in their presence. "And I want it now."

"You dare use that tone with our lord," a voice rasped from the shadows. The demon who had spoken clattered out of the darkness on shod hooves and sketched a neat bow to Hades, ducking his heavily horned head. Lifting orbs that shone a startling violet, he drew a massive ax from his belt and eyed Harry. "Let me kill him for you, Sire."

Hades rose smoothly, descending the dais silently and gliding toward Harry's still form. "What a kind offer, Abraxas, but unfortunately I must decline." Black robes swishing across the dark floor, the Demon Lord prowled forward. He swept around the Retriever carelessly, his gaze sliding across the excited faces of his subjects. "Harold James Potter is one of my most faithful subjects. Aren't you, Harry?"

Drawing a deep breath, Harry tipped his head in a small nod. "Of course, my lord. I live only to serve you," he said dispassionately. The fire in his eyes refused to be banked and was hastily hidden by sooty lashes. He focused his attention upon his fingers, staring at the crescent tattoo on the back of his hand.

"Then tell me, Retriever, why have you returned without accomplishing your task?" Hades asked succinctly. He continued his slow circuit of the chamber's perimeter, hands folded at the small of his back. When Harry failed to answer his question immediately, he whirled around, narrowing icy eyes upon the Retriever.

Glancing at the violet-eyed demon, Harry hunched his shoulders. "I was captured, my lord, in a demon trap." He shifted unhappily at the snorts of amusement and laughs of disbelief his announcement garnered. Narrowing his eyes, he lifted his chin and glared into the shadows. "A witch banished me before I was able to free myself. Now, may I have the name of the demon given the task of destroying the grimoires?"

A bark of laughter heralded the appearance of a tall demon. Amber eyes shimmering with mirth, the male flipped short red hair off his forehead and sneered at the Retriever. "You admit to allowing a mortal to trap you?" The High Court demon demanded, exchanging a dissatisfied look with the horned Abraxas. "You bring shame to our kind, Retriever." That snarled, the red-haired demon spat in his general direction and then slid back into the concealing shadows.

"Aberfoyle is correct. I do not reward failure." Hades bit out. Shaking his head ruefully, the God moved solemnly forward. "I shall not give you the name of the demon given the task of destroying the grimoires. Nor shall I return you to the mortal plane. For the first time, you have failed me, and I find myself concerned with that fact. Return to your lair, Harry."

Harry sprang to his feet and growled, opening his wings with a crash. "You have no choice! You must send me back!" He bellowed, emerald orbs flashing in outrage. "My task is not complete!" His chest rose and fell as he panted for air, nostrils flared. Sweat dampened his brow. Scrabbling with the silver band that encircled his wrist, he searched for his sword, dropping his gaze when he was unable to locate it. He lowered his eyes in time to watch the crescent tattoo bleed darkness across his skin, erasing the clock he had planned his every move by.

"I have other Retrievers in my retinue, Harry. You might be the best, but you are not the last. One of your brethren will finish the task I assigned you," Hades drawled. He watched the maddened Retriever carefully, pacing further away from him and frowning. His eyes swept the shadowed corners of the dark throne room, ferreting out his most powerful advisors. At the raven-haired Retrievers's outraged bellow, he turned, watching grimly as swirling emerald's focused completely on him.

"I had him! His heart upon my blade!" Growled Harry, hefting his wings and glaring at Hades. Lips curling back from elongated fangs, he hissed, his fingers curling threateningly.

The smile that crossed Hades face was condescending, his tone patronizing. "Be that as it may, Dwayne shall see Voldemort executed." His pale eyes widened innocently as Harry let out a screech of fury.

Hands clenching into tight fists, Harry gave four hard flaps of his wings, rising higher into the air with every heavy downstroke. "Dwayne! You're replacing me with Dwayne? He's an incompetent moron!" His final words were screamed, the sheer volume of his voice causing small pieces of rock to rain down upon the dark court. He ignored the gleeful murmurs from the shadows, choosing instead to keep his attention on Hades.

Sighing in regret, Hades lifted a long fingered hand and gave a delicate wave. His brow furrowed as the Retriever slammed into the marble floor, one long wing snapping beneath his weight. "I've had enough of your dramatics, Harry Potter. You will leave this room and not return until your presence is requested." Not bothering to watch the lesser demon climb to his feet, the God spun around and glided toward his throne, his gaze sweeping the shadows.

Harry rolled painfully to his knees and drew a shallow breath, fighting down the urge to howl like a rabid Hell Hound. Instead, he pushed himself to his feet and limped from the room, slowing only to ram his fist into the scowling imp's face. Ignoring the imp's yelp of fear, he trudged down the long corridor, his broken wing dragging uselessly behind him.

His feet carried him through the depths of Hell, taking him around bottomless chasms and boiling pools of magma, to the entrance of his lair. He paused in the narrow portal, staring blindly into the shadowed interior while his thoughts churned. Sirius was stuck on the mortal plane. Draco knew his dirty little secret. His reputation had just been dealt a terrible blow. And to top it all off, Voldemort still had his favourite sword. Heaving a deep sigh, he turned slowly around and plodded away from his lair; he wasn't happy about it, but he was home.

XxXxX

The atmosphere of Dumbledore's study was decidedly dark. Fear was evident on the faces of the three Gryffindors; their eyes wide and their faces pale as they attempted to guide shaky teacups to their mouths. Across from them, Draco stared blindly into space, his fingers folded in his lap. Gaze shifting back and forth between the four, Severus Snape sneered and lifted his brandy glass.

"Please tell me again which spell you used, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said quietly. He lifted his eyes from the grimoire sitting forlornly on his desk, glancing at the Gryffindor witch over the top of his spectacles. It seemed that just when things were starting to look up, everything went terribly wrong. Sighing softly, he lifted his teacup to his mouth and took a long swallow, waiting patiently for the young Gryffindor to gather her courage and recite her tale.

Lowering her teacup, Hermione Granger stared into the murky liquid, her eyes closing tightly as she drew a deep breath. "It was on page three-hundred-ninety-eight, professor." She jumped in fright when Ron attempted to pat her shoulder comfortingly, the quick movement sending the remaining tea inside her cup sloshing over the rim.

"Are we in trouble?" Neville asked anxiously, his wide eyes darting back and forth between the Headmaster and Professor Snape. His left hand was shaking so badly that his dark robes were dampened with spilt tea and the cup nearly empty, although the golden rim had never brushed his lips.

"Of course not," Ron scoffed, scooping up a handful of Lemon Drops and ferrying them into his waiting mouth. He chewed greedily, ignoring the disgusted glare Snape had pinned upon him.

"I'm afraid we may all be in trouble, Mister Longbottom." Dumbledore said softly. Sighing heavily, he removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. He wiped the half-moon lenses on the front of his robe before placing them back upon his nose.

"But he was a demon!" Hermione hissed, staring at the Headmaster with wide eyes. She rose and placed her cup on a nearby side table, fisting her hands in her black cloak as she began to pace back and forth before the roaring fire. "He was sent by Voldemort. We saw them talking! That evil . . . thing was obviously sent to kill Neville!"

"He's not evil," Draco rasped, startling the arguing group. He peered at them thoughtfully for a moment, ignoring the disgusted sneer Weasley sent his way. Drawing his knees up, he wrapped his arms around his legs and returned his attention to the stone wall beside him.

Curling his lips, Ron narrowed his eyes and glared in disdain at the blond Slytherin. "You'd think so, wouldn't you, Malfoy?" His sneer turned into a triumphant smirk when the Slytherin remained silent.

Shaking his head, Dumbledore focused his attention upon the ancient grimoire resting before him, narrowing his eyes as he read the incantation the Gryffindor witch had used upon Harry. "Quite the opposite actually, Miss Granger," he murmured, lips moving as he silently studied the spell. "Harry was sent by Hades to retrieve Voldemort." Lifting his gaze, he stared at Hermione, wondering if she understood the magnitude of their actions.

"I knew it!" Severus crowed. His dark eyes sparked and his lips curved into a dangerous smile. He swallowed the final dredges of brandy from his cup and slammed the empty glass down on the Headmaster's desk. "I knew there was something wrong with that boy! Only a demon would've had a negative reaction to Dresden's balm. I told you, didn't I, Draco?" His gaze swung to the blond, brow furrowing when the young wizard stared at him silently.

"Hades?" Neville whimpered, face paling as Hermione gasped.

"The God of Death," the bushy-haired witch muttered through bloodless lips. Raising her eyes from the toes of her boots, she stared at Dumbledore in horror, her mind racing. "The ruler of the underworld."

Nodding his head slowly, Dumbledore lowered his gaze to the grimoire and frowned. With a flick of his wrist, he closed the book and turned to stare into the crackling blaze within the hearth. "Correct, Miss Granger."

"But that would mean-"

"Voldemort is a demon!" Snape spat in shock, his dark orbs widening as Dumbledore nodded slowly.

"Correct."

XxXxX

Sirius slid through the dark halls of Hogwarts, his gray eyes narrowed. He moved with the assurance of a hunting cat, his entire being centered upon capturing his skittish mouse. A quick look down an abandoned hall assured him the coast was clear. Grinning devilishly, he stepped from the darkness and glared at the stone Gargoyle guarding the stairs to the Headmaster's office. Tilting his head, he whispered, "Sherbet Lemons," and waited patiently for the statue to shift to the side. He drew a deep breath as he put his foot on the first stair, closing his eyes and thinking of Harry before beginning the climb.

Courage was generally not a characteristic found in minor demons, nor was bravery. Minor demons excelled in skulduggery. They skulked and schemed and terrorized mortals; they didn't mount rescue missions. Then again, self-preservation could be listed among a minor demons best qualities. If their survival depended upon them doing something brave, they closed their eyes, did it, and hoped for the best.

Which was exactly how Sirius had come by his ingenious plan. All he had to do, in theory, was rush into the room, howl and snarl angrily, grab the grimoire, then disappear. It was simple and easy to remember, making it practically impossible to screw up. Or so he hoped.

Giving a sharp nod of encouragement to bolster his waning bravado, he drew himself straight and threw open the door of Dumbledore's study, lunging inside with an angered snarl. Metal began to scream loudly, a sharp ringing that made him curse and slap his hands protectively over his ears. His hands were unable to block out the shrill whining, nor were they able to protect his ear drums from the panicked wails of fear that escaped the four young mortals crowded around the Headmaster's desk.

The phoenix perched beyond the group let out a disgusted trill and launched itself into the air. With a crack of scarlet wings, Fawkes shot over the group, lashing angrily at the dark-haired male with sharp talons as he passed. Ignoring the demon's screech, the phoenix dropped gracefully down the staircase with a triumphant shrill, leaving chaos in his wake.

To busy swatting at the air over his head, Sirius was completely unprepared for the barrage of spells that struck him. His breath was forced from his lungs as he was slammed into a wall, his waving arms scattering dozens of shiny trinkets and whirring objects. Slumping to the floor, he gave a sharp shake of his head and blinked, trying to clear his fuzzy mind. A blur of blue sailing toward him had him rolling to the left and struggling painfully to his feet. "Give me the book," he yelped, wild gray eyes locking on the Headmaster.

"Book?" Severus hissed in confusion, the tip of his wand pointed firmly at the crazed male. Narrowing his eyes, the Potions Master darted a quick look at Dumbledore. He was surprised at the relief he found upon the older wizard's face, the hope shining within those blue orbs causing him to falter.

"The Grimoire!" Sirius snarled as he straightened. "I must have it!" He took a shaky step forward and walked into an invisible wall. A howl of pure anger escaped him as he banged uselessly upon the empty air, his fisted hands sending ripples through the magic that contained him.

"He's a demon," Hermione whispered loudly, "just like Harry." She loosed a frightened squeak when orbs blazing steely gray focused completely on her, the pupils dilated to slits of black. Whimpering in fear, she pressed closer to Ron and Neville, cowering against the pair as the contained demon snarled.

"Harry isn't just a demon!" Sirius roared in response to the witch's whisper. Lifting his hands, he placed his palms against the magical sphere and dragged his nails slowly down its length, attempting to separate the pulsing energy. "He's the finest Retriever in all of Hell! His skill is legendary! His prowess unrivaled! Heaven, even Voldemort fears him! And you, you worthless mortal, banished him! Can you even begin to comprehend what you've done? You've tarnished his reputation! He shall be laughed at for decades to come!"

"Enough!" Dumbledore cried suddenly, raising a hand to bring silence to the room. He stared at the panting demon thoughtfully, his gaze dropping slowly to the grimoire resting closed before him. Brow furrowing, he rose and circled his desk, bringing the thick book with him as he moved. Halting before the angry demon, he lifted the grimoire and calmly asked, "can you summon him back?"

Eyes narrowing, Sirius shifted, his gaze locked on the proffered book. Fingers clenching, he inhaled slowly and gave a sharp bob of his head. "I can," he whispered, slitted orbs moving from the tome to the face of the wizard holding it. Tipping his head, he slowly reached for the grimoire, his hand passing easily through the air which had moments ago been occupied by a magical wall. At the feel of aged leather beneath his fingertips, he grinned and tossed his head back, laughing gleefully.

"Professor," Hermione hissed in a scandalized voice, shaking her head back and forth in horror. She shifted closer to Ron and Neville and slid her hand into her pocket, wrapping her fingers around the comforting length of her wand. "They're evil. How can you consort with something that crawled out of Hell?"

"I'll have you know I jumped two planes to get here." The minor demon snapped, shooting the young witch a disgusted look as he opened the grimoire and began to thumb hastily through its pages. "And I'm not evil . . . well, I'm not really evil. Neither is Harry. Heaven, if he were any nicer we'd have to dye his wings cherub white!" The shaggy haired demon muttered, his gray eyes dancing merrily at the thought.

"Professor-"

"Please return to your dormitories," Dumbledore said, his gaze sweeping over the three Gryffindors in warning. He arched a brow when Hermione began to protest, his compressed lips bringing her to a stuttering halt. "Immediately." Relief swept through him when the witch bowed her head and swung toward the door, leading her fellow Gryffindors from his study. Eager to begin, he returned his gaze to the humming demon, his brow drawing down as the dark-haired male flipped the grimoire upside down and pursed his lips. A light thud turned his head and brought his eyes to the pair of Slytherins staring silently at him.

Tipping his chin upward, Draco glared down his nose at the headmaster. "I'm staying," he stated calmly as he folded his arms. His chin went up a notch when Dumbledore frowned, his hands fisting in the cloth of his dark robes.

"Mister Malfoy," Albus began, stopping when the blond gave a sharp shake of his head.

"I'm staying," Draco repeated, glancing at Severus. The flare of surprise in his Godfather's eyes had him narrowing his pale orbs and tapping one foot impatiently. "Many dark spells require the brewing of potions. This . . . demon shall surely need the assistance of someone who is capable of brewing a perfect potion."

Sighing lightly, the Headmaster bobbed his head in agreement. He glanced at the demon perusing the grimoire, cringing as the male muttered something about unicorn blood and then licked his lips. "You may stay, Mister Malfoy. And you as well, Severus," he added worriedly. "Something tells me your expertise shall be needed in the next few hours.

"I need fifteen pounds of salt and a human heart, preferably fresh - the heart not the salt."

Exchanging nervous looks, the three wizards peered at the demon and reached for their wands. It was going to be an interesting few hours. Assuming they all lived through the summoning of the wizarding world's last hope.

XxXxX

A finger ran lazily up the inside of his arm, the touch making him draw back his lips and bare glistening teeth in warning. When the digit continued leisurely on its exploratory path, he growled softly. The hand was withdrawn quickly, only to reappear quite suddenly upon his bare back. Eyes flying open in outrage, Harry jerked his head to the side, orbs narrowing upon the silent individual sitting next to him. "What do you want?" He bit out, resettling his chin upon the warm stone beneath him. His teeth ground together as a feather light stroke was delivered to the underside of his right wing, the brush causing the hair at the nape of his neck to rise.

"I want my demon, Harry Potter." The individual crooned, head tilting as he examined the raven-haired Retriever. Running fingers tipped with needle like nails up Harry's spine, the male slowly began to apply more pressure, leaving narrow furrows within the tanned skin that filled slowly with blood. "Tell me, where is my Sirius?"

Flinching at the rake of claws, Harry snarled and rolled away, coming up on all fours several feet away from the maddened Incubus. "Go away, Remus." His emerald orbs narrowed dangerously, his dark wings arching threateningly above his bleeding back. He tensed as the other male flowed liquidly into the same position, head tipped coquettishly and lips drawn back.

"You called and he went. Yet here you are, and he is nowhere in sight. So, tell me, Retriever, where is my Sirius?" Remus bellowed, wings opening with a crack. He hissed like a feral cat, exposing a mouth full of razor sharp teeth.

Harry responded in kind, drawing back his lips and revealing neatly curved fangs. "He's upon the mortal plane! Which is exactly where I should be!" His angered scream ricocheted around the cavern. Silence fell upon the rock chamber, both males staring quietly at each other as they panted for breath.

"You left him there?" Demanded the browned-haired Incubus into the silence, his nails scraping the dark stone as he crept forward. He slunk like a stalking lion, his eyes narrowing as Harry growled and spread his dark wings further.

"I had no choice!" Bellowed the Retriever, nostrils flaring as he exhaled angrily. "I was banished!" He snapped his mouth closed as soon as the admission had flown past his lips. Face flushing, he rumbled angrily and closed his eyes, preparing himself for what was to come.

At his words, the Incubus halted, his lips forming a delighted smile. Tipping his head, he leaned forward and lowered his wings, blue orbs sparkling with mirth. "You? Banished?" At the raven-haired Retriever's embarrassed nod, he tossed back his head and howled with laughter. His left fist hammered the warm rock beneath him as he laughed wildly, his face growing redder with every high-pitched giggle. "The great Harry James Potter banished? Hades finest Retriever thrown from the mortal plane? Who had the horns to do such a thing?" Snickered Remus, gasping for air as he peered at the younger demon.

Groaning, Harry dropped to his stomach and buried his burning face in his folded arms. "A witch," he mumbled, gritting his teeth as Remus cackled like a hyena.

With one final hoot, Remus collapsed to his stomach and sighed. Rubbing his chin against the smooth skin of his arms, he stared at the sulking Retriever. "I suppose it's up to me to go and fetch him, then?" The Incubus inquired softly, allowing his eyes to drift closed as he inhaled deeply.

Lifting his face from his arms, Harry swivelled his head and gazed at the Incubus in stunned realization. "Remus? You can jump across the planes, can't you?" He asked unnecessarily as a smile slid slowly across his face. The sleepy nod the other gave had him grinning widely. "If you'll perform a simple task for me, I'll give you whatever your black little heart desires."

* * *

A/n: Thank you to everyone who took the time to read and review. And I wish you all the best in the New Year! 


	14. The Iron Chamber

DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter and all other characters and locations belong to J. K. Rowling.

**Chapter Fourteen - The Iron Chamber**

* * *

Harry slipped through the shadows like a ghost, his feet moving soundlessly across the black marble floors of Hell. There was no hesitation in his steps as he prowled silently forward, his fingers trailing along the warm stone of the passage's wall. Each dimple and curve in the rock was familiar, the rasp and scrape bringing him some small measure of comfort. The path he traveled was engraved within his mind, every turn coming as natural as each breath he drew.

Somewhere within the snaking maze of corridors and chambers, a barrage of barks sounded. The noise froze him mid stride, tipping his head and stilling the passage of air into his lungs. Eyes searching the unforgiving darkness, he exhaled slowly and tipped his head. He sniffed delicately, nose wrinkling at the strong smell of brimstone. A drawn out exhalation had him stiffening and glancing over his shoulder, emerald orbs narrowing upon the bored looking Incubus standing impatiently behind him. At Remus' innocent shrug, he growled softly and spun back around, eyes widening as they landed upon the individual silently watching them. Straightening, Harry lifted his chin and glared down his nose at the strawberry blond.

"Dwayne," he bit out.

"Potter," the other Retriever drawled, "I heard you got grounded." Flashing gently curving fangs, Dwayne waltzed forward smugly. He raised his left hand as he approached, proudly displaying the black circle upon his milky skin. "Hades is sending me to execute Voldemort. Imagine, the first execution of a High Court demon in seven hundred years. It's a terrible pity you screwed so badly."

Smiling sweetly, Harry glided forward to meet him. As soon as he was within striking distance, his right hand shot out and seized Dwayne's left, twisting brutally until the fragile bones in the other Retriever's wrist snapped. The pained whimper that escaped the blond had him sighing in delight and crushing the fingers he still held. "I heard you liked to play with Cerberus' balls." Grinning maliciously as Dwayne's cheeks reddened in anger, he slid backwards, dragging the taller Retriever with him. "My apologies, I meant to say 'play ball with Cerberus'."

"You white-winged dunce!" Dwayne hissed, attempting to free his captured hand.

Eyes narrowing at the insult, Harry lashed out. His right foot connected solidly with the other Retriever's groin, bringing Dwayne to his knees with an almost inaudible gasp of pain. Releasing the blond's mangled hand, he stepped forward and ducked his head, whispering softly into Dwayne's ear, "if anyone executes Voldemort, it will be me." That said, he slammed his knee into the strawberry blond's down turned face. His eyes drifted closed at the crunch of bone, nostrils flaring at the coppery smell of freshly spilled blood. Opening his eyes, he watched with interest as the other Retriever collapsed completely and curled into a ball upon the floor.

"I thought that was just a rumour," Remus said, gliding forward to stand next to Harry. He shifted nervously as Dwayne whimpered, glancing over his shoulder into the hovering shadows.

Giving an absent shake of his head, Harry flexed his wings and rolled his shoulders. "It's not. Hades wants Voldemort executed as soon as possible." He tipped his head as he considered the groaning Retriever rocking gently back and forth on the floor before them. His lips pursed, he delivered a sharp kick to Dwayne's stomach before stepping over the blond's quivering form and continuing on down the hall.

"I meant the other one," Remus muttered in a distracted voice. He shot the downed Retriever a sympathetic look as he stepped over him, lengthening his strides to keep up with Harry. "The one about Cerberus," he added helpfully, breaking into a light jog as the raven-haired Retriever chuckled and leapt neatly down a narrow flight of stairs.

Snorting, Harry slowed and turned down a long corridor. "If Hades found out anyone was playing anything other than fetch with Cerberus, he'd have them hung by their balls from the chandelier in the Grand Foyer." His strides shortened as he eyed the door they approached, the change of pace allowing the panting Incubus to catch up with him. A shiver raced down his spine at the strong smell that hung in the air; the scent enough to turn back any demon worth his wings. Drawing a deep breath, he walked forward, emerald eyes sweeping the runes set within the frame of the portal.

At his approach, the door lock clicked softly, the faint sound seeming to ricochet through the shadowed hall. Groaning slightly, the stone door swung slowly inward. Light pierced the darkness, sifting around the shifting door to chase back the shadows. Drawing a deep breath, Harry walked forward, lifting a hand to shield his sensitive eyes from the glow. He blinked for several seconds before lowering his hand, emerald orbs studying the chamber's contents. With a moan of delighted pleasure, the raven-haired Retriever skipped deeper into the room.

Remus followed slowly, curling a lip in disgust as the smell of iron wrapped itself promisingly around him. The strong scent whispered of death and pain, both which could be had at the hands of a hunting Retriever. Hunching his shoulders, the Incubus scurried after Harry's frolicking form, wincing as the younger male stopped to coo over a particularly vicious looking mace. "Harry," he whispered loudly, wrinkling his nose in disgust as the dark-haired Retriever ran a gentle finger down the hilt of a katana with a loving sigh.

The Iron Chamber, as it was called, was a chamber that only Hades Retrievers had access to. It was their armory. An iron armory; a room full of weapons crafted almost completely of iron. It was every demon's nightmare, and every Retriever's wet dream. Any weapon a Retriever desired could be found within the room's confines. Throwing axes, spears tipped in iron, flails, morning stars, and swords of every length lined the walls. Shelves and racks held daggers of varying width and weight. And each weapon lying gleaming in the candlelight had tasted demon blood.

"Yes?" Harry replied absently, plucking a long sword from one of the racks. He tossed the blade from hand to hand, gauging the weight and balance with a thoughtful frown. With an abrupt wag of his head, he replaced the blade and prowled further down the wall, glancing back at Remus with an arched brow.

"How long is this going to take?" The brown-haired Incubus demanded, suppressing a shudder of fear. He couldn't help but glance hopefully in the direction of the portal, and safety.

Smirking at the older male, Harry lifted a steel and iron hurlbat from a hook and examined its blades. "Afraid, Remus?" He drawled, running one of his nails carefully along the shining iron edge. The hurlbat wasn't one of his favourite weapons, but it was amazingly useful. With one throw, he could take the head off a fleeing imp or drop a demon from the sky. Biting his bottom lip, he considered the sharpened blades for a moment before shoving the weapon into his belt.

"This room always gives me the willies," Remus replied tensely. He tucked his wings close to his back and shot a nervous glance at Harry, rolling his eyes as the Retriever grinned broadly and lifted another sword from the wall. His mouth went dry as the dark-haired demon twirled the blade experimentally, the shimmering tip passing frighteningly close to his nose. Taking a small step backward, he crossed his arms protectively over his chest and narrowed angry blue orbs. "Would you just hurry up and pick one," he hissed.

Brow furrowing in concentration, Harry replaced the sword and wandered further into the chamber. His practiced gaze swept over the racks of swords and shelves of daggers, searching for the perfect weapon. "These things take time," he breathed, extending a hand and caressing the intricately designed hilt of a broadsword. His fingers slid over the tanzanite set in the golden pommel, the gem prompting him to remove the sword from its place upon the wall. "I am, after all, replacing my favourite sword."

"Yes, well, that one looks lovely. Can we go now?" Remus muttered, arching a brow. His eyes narrowed suspiciously at the gleam in the Retriever's orbs, the glint making him take a cautious step backwards. Goose bumps raced along his arms as Harry turned to look at him, the smile curving the dark-haired demon's lips becoming more malicious with every passing second.

Chuckling darkly, Harry slid the tip of his middle finger down the sword's blade. "I believe we can," he whispered as his skin smoked and parted beneath the glistening iron. As blood began to spill down his finger, he glanced at Remus and laughed.

XxXxX

In a small abandoned classroom deep within the bowels of Hogwarts, two wizards and one minor demon studied an ancient text. Or rather, two wizards studied an ancient text while one minor demon carved deep circles in the wood of the long desk they sat at with the nail of his index finger. Slumping in boredom, Sirius applied more pressure to the tip of his finger, watching in avid fascination as his nail slid further into the hard wood. His concentration was broken by the rustle of fabric and the whisper of parchment being moved.

"It's almost time," Severus Snape stated, glancing at the demon warily. He straightened in his seat as the dark-haired male loosed an excited squeak and hopped off his chair. In his lap, his hands fisted, wishing for the comforting length of his wand. Drawing a deep breath, he turned his head in the direction the demon had gone, lips pursing at the heavy leather bag the immortal male had unearthed in the concealing shadows.

With great gusto, the shaggy-haired demon tossed the bag he carried carelessly upon the table next to Draco. He smiled widely as he grabbed the bottom of the bag and spilled its contents across the scarred wood of the old desk. "I got everything we'll need," he announced gleefully, raising gray eyes to the shocked wizards gazing at him in horror. His brow furrowed in confusion when Severus took a shaky step backwards, distancing himself from the mess resting before him.

"What the hell is this?" The Potions Master hissed, waving a pale hand to indicate the table and its bloody contents. Compressing his lips, he turned dark orbs upon the grinning demon, one of his hands sliding into the pocket of his robe in search of his wand.

Snorting in disgust, Sirius began to paw through his findings. "If your Headmaster had agreed to use the spell and potion combination I wanted to use, none of this would be necessary. However, seeing as you've denied me my human heart, we're going to have to do this the old fashioned way." Lifting a hand dripping with blood, he eyed his fingers and licked his lips, unable to resist the temptation. With a happy purr, he stuck two fingers into his mouth and closed his eyes, moaning around the digits.

Exchanging a nervous glance with Severus, Draco shifted on his stool and eyed the demon. "What exactly is the 'old-fashioned-way'?" He asked softly, his gaze falling to the viscous liquid slowly creeping toward his folded hands. Nose crinkling at the sweet smell of copper, he lifted his hands from the blood's path and rose. His hands ran idly down the front of his dark robes as he moved, smoothing away the wrinkles and creases in the material.

Eyes lazily sliding open, Sirius pulled his fingers from his mouth and shuffled closer to the table. A sly smirk stole across his features as he examined everything he'd collected from the forest; some of which had been quite unwilling to accompany him back to the castle. "You'll see," he breathed in promise. Gray orbs flicking to the greasy-haired wizard, he flashed slightly yellowed teeth and transferred his gaze to the young blond, saying "of course, if you allowed me to put him in the circle, all of this would be completely unnecessary."

"Don't even entertain the thought," Severus growled, slipping his wand from his pocket and holding it before him in warning.

Sirius snorted in disgust and slipped away from the wizard, walking silently to the far side of the room. "A circle of salt is the first requirement," he stated. Tongue protruding past his lips, he hefted a bag from the floor and carried it to the center of the room, dropping it carelessly when he reached his destination. He delivered a sharp kick to the side of the sack as he eyed the pair of wizards, gazing at them skeptically. With a brisk shake of his head, he leaned over the bag and slid the tips of his fingers into the rough canvas, slicing cleanly through the material. "I'll assume neither of you are going to help me."

When neither mortal replied, he huffed unhappily and lifted the bag to his shoulder, beginning a slow and tedious circuit of the chamber. Twice his progress was halted by the need for more salt. And fifteen minutes after he'd begun, he stopped and looked back over his work, smirking smugly.

Drawn in salt upon the smooth stones of the dungeon floor was a large circle. Well, it was almost a circle. The egg-shaped loop was nine feet wide; the lines that created its circumference thick and layered. In the darkened room, the salt shimmered, seeming to shift under the faint light cast by the two torches hanging on opposite walls. It may not have been the perfect circle for summoning, but in a heartbeat, it would do.

"Now what?" Severus asked, his voice breaking the silence that had fallen. He glared doubtfully at the circle of salt on the floor as he rolled his wand between long fingers, brow creased.

Rubbing his hands eagerly together, Sirius swept back toward the table and its contents. He snatched the waiting cauldron from where it sat and plunked it down on the dark wooden desk, sparing a quick second to peer into its shadowed depths. "Now, we put everything in the pot and stir it all together."

Draco and Severus exchanged a doubtful look as the dark-haired demon began to dig through the pile of gore-covered ingredients lying on the table. Their faces bore similar expressions of disgust and horror, their lips curling and their noses crinkling. Neither wizard moved forward to aid the humming demon; instead they slid backwards, halting only when their backs met the damp stone of the dungeon wall. Each held their wand tightly, knuckles whitening on the worn handles.

"Unicorn blood, a Thestral heart, a mature Wood Nymph - which was extremely hard to catch by the way - the liver of a cow, an owl-" Sirius stopped in mid tirade, tongue caught between his lips as he considered the bloody fowl dangling from his fingers.

"Enough!" Draco snapped, looking quite sickened over the fact that someone's owl was about to end up in a demon's soup pot. Face whiter that normal, he waved a graceful hand, indicating that the immortal male should continue making his creation without citing each ingredient as he dropped it into the cauldron.

With a shrug of his narrow shoulders, Sirius continued tossing stuff into the cauldron. He licked his lips at the smell emanating from the large pot, drool pooling in his mouth. When the last ingredient fell into the cauldron with a splatter, he smiled and stepped back, his demonic stew finally completed. "It's done," he announced proudly, glistening eyes lifting to meet the disgusted gazes of the two wizards.

"Great," Draco mumbled, raising a hand and shielding his nose with the back of his wrist. Gulping delicately, he bit his bottom lip and stared at the cauldron, brows drawing down in confusion. "What is it?"

"What is it?" Sirius parroted in disbelief, disdain creeping into his voice. "It's a veritable feast! Any demon worth his shadowed soul would leap multiple planes just for the chance to inhale the smell of cow liver drenched in unicorn blood. Why, Wood Nymph is considered a delicacy in Hell! And the barn owl! It might be common but the fact that it was someone's beloved pet will make its flesh even sweeter." Shaking his head, he dragged the cauldron from the table and carried it toward the circle. He stepped carefully over the thick line of salt, eyeing it nervously as he upended the pot in the center of the circle and then leapt out quickly.

Sirius drew a deep breath and backed slowly away from the salt circle, glancing anxiously at the two wizards as he shifted. His gray eyes glowed eerily, the pupils contracting until they were nothing more than dark lines within twin pools of molten silver. Blinking once, he turned his orbs to the circle and lifted his chin. "Harry James, I call you," he stated clearly. His deliberate exclusion of the Retriever's surname went unnoticed by the pair, neither having heard Harry's name in its entirety. "And now, we wait," he whispered.

The minutes crept by slowly as the trio waited patiently, their complete attention focused on the circle. Their patience was rewarded by an explosion of jade flames. As quickly as it had begun, the blaze died, leaving the two wizards and minor demon staring at the individual contained within the circle.

Arching wings of ivory, the golden-haired male glided forward and widened violet eyes. "You called me," he purred softly. A beatific smile crossed his lips as he extended a hand toward Draco, his knuckles halting millimeters away from the invisible wall that held him. "Release me, Master, and let me do your bidding." Dark lashes dipped to hide glowing purple orbs, a delayed attempt to conceal the unusual rectangular pupils he bore.

Clearing his throat, Sirius took a small step forward, his movement gaining the angelic being's immediate attention. "Ah, sorry," he muttered, lifting a hand to rub the back of his neck in embarrassment. "You're actually not the demon I was calling." Shrugging his shoulders apologetically, he shot a wide-eyed look at Severus and shifted warily.

Drawing back his hand, the white-winged demon crossed his arms and glared petulantly at Sirius. "Release me anyway," he snapped, violet orbs flashing.

Sirius licked his lips and slowly shook his head, denying the other demon's request. "I'm sorry but Harry'd have my balls if I let you out."

"But I'm Harry James!" The violet-eyed demon howled angrily. Wings as white as freshly fallen snow opened with a crack, displaying feathers with iridescent lines that mesmerized. "You want to release me. You wish to please me," the angelic demon crooned, focusing his shimmering orbs on Draco and delicately ruffling the glossy feathers. Before Draco had the chance to do his bidding, the white winged demon vanished in a roar of emerald flames.

A new demon stood within the circle, eyes of scarlet sweeping the assembled trio with undisguised interest. "I'm Harry James," the newcomer announced blithely, forked tail tracing absent patterns in the air behind him. His horned head dipped as he gazed thoughtfully at Sirius, considering the other demon with narrowed orbs. "Cousin," he greeted finally, nodding respectfully to Sirius.

Closing his eyes, Sirius sighed heavily. "You're not the Harry I was looking for. I was actually trying to summon Retriever Harry-" His mouth closed with a snap as the other demon chuckled lightly and shook his horned head, waving away Sirius' explanation with flutter of his hand.

"Didn't you hear? Potter's grounded. Got himself banished by some little witch, and then argued with Daddy about his competence," said the scarlet-eyed demon. Laughing again, he clattered forward on shod hooves and gestured at the circle of salt that surrounded him. "You can let me out. It'll be our little secret."

"Sweet Hell!" Sirius snarled loudly. Tossing his hands into the air, he whirled around and cursed angrily, aiming a hard kick at the cauldron lying abandoned on the floor. Tightly shutting his eyes, he drew a deep calming breath and swung back around. Teeth grit, he exhaled slowly and then called, "Harry James Potter, Retriever of the Devil's wandering disciples, I summon you." He blinked rapidly when he was finished, brow wrinkling as he tilted his head and stared at the demon standing stunned before him.

"Fool!" The contained demon barked, tail thrashing wildly. Eyes widening in fear, he glanced nervously over his shoulder and then disappeared in a swirl of green sparks.

"What, exactly, just happened?" Severus Snape demanded in a soft hiss. He tightened his grip on his wand as the shaggy-haired demon lifted a hand in warning and leaned forward slightly, his attention completely focused on the salt circle. Lips firming in displeasure, Severus raised his chin and narrowed dark eyes, fingers tightening reflexively around his wand. Opening his mouth to issue an angered ultimatum, he stilled, his words dying upon his tongue as green flames once again leapt to life in the center of the chamber.

XxXxX

Harry moved swiftly down one of Hell's many halls, his eyes sweeping the shrouding shadows anxiously. Drawing a deep breath, he flexed his left wing, testing the strength of the recently broken appendage. A pleased smile curved his lips when the wing lifted easily, the dark scales shimmering with good health. He turned his head slightly, listening to the patter of Remus' feet on the floor as the Incubus trotted after him. "Are you ready?" His voice rang out in the darkened corridor, echoing softly.

"For someone who says they hate the mortal plane, you're in an awfully uncommon hurry to return there," Remus commented breathlessly. His eyes widened as the Retriever swung around suddenly, sliding to a startled stop and hastily skittering backwards. Holding his hands up apologetically, he opened his mouth to commence groveling but halted, eyes narrowing.

"My actions are none of your-" Harry's mouth snapped shut and he ground his teeth together angrily as the Incubus leveled a shaky finger at him, mouth opening and closing silently. "What?" He snarled unhappily, one foot beginning an impatient tap as his hand dropped to the grip of the hurlbat.

"You're glowing," Remus hissed quietly, as if sharing a secret. His eyes wide, he leaned forward, watching curiously as the green glow intensified.

Emerald orbs flaring, Harry jerkily glanced down, lips parting on a curse as he glared at the magic pulsing around his torso. "It's-"

In a soft whoosh, he was consumed by cool green flames.

XxXxX

Thank you to everyone who took the time to read and review. Due to length, this chapter was broken into two pieces. I hadn't originally intended to leave it a cliffhanger . . . my apologies.

PrincessEmeraude – I hadn't really thought of bringing either James or Lily into this story. To be truthful, I'm not a fan of James either. Unfortunately, Harry was spawned rather than birthed, which means that Severus can't be his father, though it would add an interesting twist to the story. Lily the Succubus seducing Severus the angry Potions Master in his dungeons?  
TorringMay – lol, I seem to always be able to find a place for both Remus and Sirius in my fics.  
Triden – You don't want it to end, eh? lol, I actually can't wait to write the epilogue and bring this story to its conclusion. I think Harbinger is the most difficult story I've attempted yet.  
Mangacat201 – there will definitely be some EXTRA demons appearing.


	15. Dealing with Demons

DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter and all other characters and locations belong to J. K. Rowling.

Warning – This is your four more chapters until the very end warning

**Chapter Fifteen - Dealing with Demons**

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Summoning was a nasty business. It was rude and invasive - and with the right spell, anyone could do it. All it took was the uttering of a demon's name, either in full or in part, and a demon would answer. Of course, every Summons was open to interpretation . . .

Mispronounce a name, and every demon with a name even close to the spoken one would appear, all of them claiming to be the Summoned. Speak only a single name, and every demon with that name anywhere in theirs would happily jump into a circle of salt. Refine a Summons by adding a title or label, and run the risk of meeting every demon but the one you were hoping for. Stating a surname common among Hades' minions may as well have been an invitation to their family reunion, because that's pretty much how it was treated. In conclusion, knocking on the door of Hell was extremely risky, especially when you didn't know who was home.

There was only one way to guarantee the identity of a demon that arrived within a circle of salt, and that was by speaking its full name. A demon's greatest weakness lay within its name. Once it was spoken, a demon had no choice but to answer the Summons and complete whatever task the Summoner commanded. It granted anyone who knew it power over them, putting them at the mercy of their Summoner and all of sundry. And _that_ was why Harry James Potter was going to murder the moron who'd screamed his name at the top of their lungs.

The very thought of death and chaos warmed his heart and kept him sane as he was hurtling through time and space. His hair waved wildly in the wind created by his passage, the dark locks nipping roughly at the skin of his face and throat. Closing his eyes tightly, he wrapped himself in the protective cocoon of his wings and grit his teeth, cherishing the thought of tearing some stupid mortal's still beating heart free of their chest.

A sudden roar filled his sensitive ears, heralding his arrival on the mortal plane. Without warning, he was unceremoniously dumped upon a cold stone floor. Wings and arms flailing wildly to maintain his upright position, he howled angrily, eyes sweeping the shadow filled chamber. His outraged cry died as his sparking orbs landed upon a familiar blond, the sight of Draco bringing him to wavering halt. Blinking once, he inhaled slowly, dragging the wizard's smell across his tongue and into his lungs. Mouth opening on a surprised hiss, he stepped forward and slipped, crashing gracelessly to the ground.

"Harry!" Sirius screeched, lunging forward and slamming into the side of the invisible sphere. Blinking in surprise, he reached out and patted the air before him, brow furrowing in confusion. The low growl that rose from the demon sprawled unhappily on the floor at his feet had him chuckling nervously and taking a small step backwards. "Perhaps I should explain," he began, squealing in fright as Harry surged to his feet.

Lips drawn back from dainty fangs, the raven-haired Retriever snarled angrily and flung his wings open. Blood flew off the scaled appendages, splattering sickeningly against the containment dome. Shutting blazing emerald orbs, Harry drew a deep breath and raised his arms, shuddering slightly as cold blood dripped from the tips of his fingers. His eyes opened slowly, landing on the minor demon without err. "There had better be a good explanation for this, Sirius." At the other demon's frantic nod, he arched a brow and gave his hands a sharp shake, trying to free them of blood. "I suggest you begin before I decide I no longer want to listen to your pathetic excuses."

"Ah," Sirius started, eyes darting around the chamber in search of aid. His mouth opened and closed silently, his brain searching for an answer that would appease the enraged Retriever. Finding nothing, he glanced at the dark-haired demon through wide eyes and offered him a weak smile. "It seemed like a good idea at the time?"

Hands fisting, Harry tipped his head and narrowed his eyes. "Try again," he rumbled. Watching the minor demon pale under his gaze, he rumbled in satisfaction and stepped forward, extending a hand to caress the magic that contained him. He opened his mouth to utter a taunting threat but halted, eyebrows drawing down as magic brushed over his aura. Head swiveling, he searched the shadowed room, nostrils flaring as he inhaled deeply.

As Sirius opened his mouth to begin what, Harry assumed, was a long winded explanation of why he'd done what he did, a brilliant flash of green blinded him. Lifting a hand to shield his eyes, he squinted against the fading light, narrowed orbs barely able to make out the shape of the individual standing within the dying glow. With a soft pop, the jade light vanished, leaving the raven-haired Retriever staring in shocked awe at the new arrival. Biting back a groan of displeasure, he lifted a hand and rubbed at the ache slowly growing in his left temple, managing to smear blood across his forehead in the process.

"Harry!" Remus yelped in glee, bounding forward to stand in front of the other demon. Nostrils crinkling, the Incubus sniffed appreciatively and sighed, blue eyes glazing as his gaze dipped to the bloody pool the Retriever stood in. "Is that Wood Nymph I smell?" He demanded softly, giving a light flutter of his wings to stir the air.

"Remus!" Sirius shrieked in delight, his cry spinning the blond Incubus around. Laughing excitedly, the minor demon rushed forward and slammed into the other demon, sending both of them crashing to the floor. In a happy purring ball, the pair rolled around, completely oblivious to the two wizards watching them in mute fascination.

It was Harry's unhappy growl that separated the two, minor demon and Incubus both lifting their heads slowly and staring fearfully at the glowering Retriever. Orbs shimmering eerily, the dark-haired male gestured at the circle of salt surrounding him and then crossed his arms. "Well?" He hissed, arching his heavy wings effortlessly.

"Right," Sirius muttered, untangling himself from Remus and scuttling across the uneven stone floor. He extended a hand to break the line of salt but stilled, straightening slowly at the press of something against his spine. His hands lifted slowly, eyes rising to meet Harry's startled orbs. Lips moving on a silent apology, he glanced over his shoulder at the dark-haired wizard standing directly behind him.

Offering the demon a dangerous smile, Severus Snape prodded him away from the circle of salt and the growling demon trapped within it. "I'm afraid you'll have to stay there a little while longer, Harry James Potter," the Potions Master purred. He laughed merrily as Sirius whimpered and Harry collapsed to his knees, emerald orbs glowing with a feral light. Sliding a hand into the pocket of his robes, he withdrew a vial filled with a thick clear liquid and expertly uncorked it.

As the strong smell of Liquid Iron drifted free of the vial's mouth, Harry's eyes darkened in understanding. "Flee!" He barked sharply, dark wings opening with a crash that shook the magic surrounding him. His wild antics momentarily drew the eyes of the two wizards, though it did nothing to affect the magical sphere. And for once, to both his relief and chagrin, Sirius and Remus listened. With a loud snap and a soft pop, the Incubus and minor demon vanished, leaving him trapped and defenseless. The thought was most definitely not a comforting one.

Sniffing in disdain, Severus replaced the vial's cork and slid it away. He seemed completely unconcerned with Harry's throbbing snarls and the tense quivering of his arched wings as he paced away from the demon, his wand still held lightly in his hand. With a flick of his wrist, torches hidden within the shadows blossomed to life, their flames chasing away the lingering darkness. "You cannot leave that circle of salt without being released," he stated calmly, sounding extremely knowledgeable and completely certain of that fact.

Orbs narrowing, Harry curled his lips back and flashed glistening fangs. "Are you sure about that?" He taunted, extending a hand and sweeping it lazily across the floor just inside the line of salt. The scrape of his nails caused Draco to jump nervously, the quick movement drawing Harry's slitted eyes in his direction. Inhaling lightly, the Retriever withdrew his hand, absently swiping bloody fingers across the edge of his short kilt.

"Quite," Severus returned coldly, seeming to pluck a thick tome out of thin air. He held the book aloft, allowing the demon to read its title. His lips curved into a smug smirk when the raven-haired male cursed angrily and pounded a fist against his thigh. "That's what I thought." Lowering the grimoire, the Potions Master strode slowly back toward the demon, his fingers drumming along the top of the ancient text.

Realizing he was truly trapped, Harry closed his eyes and exhaled. He shifted restlessly where he knelt on the dungeon floor, unicorn blood thickening around his knees and dampening the edge of his kilt. His brow wrinkled as he considered his options, one hand lazily falling to caress the handle of the hurlbat tucked into his belt. With a soft hiss, he opened his eyes and glared at the wizard standing directly before him. "I'll assume you've already translated the introduction," he spat unhappily, glowing orbs dipping to the grimoire. The reminder of the books very existence had him internally shrieking in rage and silently promising death to the demon given the task of destroying the How-To manual.

"Of course," Severus replied tersely, his knuckles whitening on the text.

Lips pursed, the Retriever gave a sharp bob of his head and arched a single eyebrow. "Tell me then, what exactly is it you want?" He tensed as he waited for the wizard to respond, wondering what demeaning action the mortal male would demand of him. While he waited for the greasy-haired Potions Master to respond, he mentally composed a list of the tasks he wouldn't do, even if it meant he had to spend rest of eternity sitting in the dungeons of Hogwarts. His train of thought was brought to an abrupt halt when the wizard closed the short distance between them, the speed of his movement causing Harry to yank the hurlbat free of his belt and lurch to his feet.

In two short strides, the Potions Master stood before the wary demon, his dark eyes narrowed. "I want this gone!" The wizard hissed, yanking back the sleeve of his robe. Upon the milky skin of his forearm, the Dark Mark writhed. He remained posed like that, his teeth grit and his nostrils flaring with each heavy exhalation, eyes focused on the mark etched into his flesh.

Harry eyed the black mark, distaste evident upon his face. With a shake of his head, he straightened, ignoring the slide of the sword resting between his shoulder blades. "You ask the impossible," he said evenly, shoving the handle of the hurlbat back into his belt. Emerald orbs glowing with mirth, he chuckled softly and gave another wag of his head. "You allowed a demon to claim you as his chattel. The only individual who can remove that brand is the one who placed it there. And I am, most definitely, not he."

Mouth gaping, Severus lowered his sleeve and stared at the dark-haired demon in shock. "What do you mean?" He rasped finally, shooting a worried glance over his shoulder at Draco. Drawing a calming breath, he turned his gaze back to Harry and clenched his hands, fighting the urge to yell and screech mindlessly. "Surely there's some way to get rid of it. A spell? A potion? Anything!" Desperation crept into his voice on the final word, bringing a small grin to the demon's lips.

"There are other ways," Harry hedged, stretching his wings slowly toward the ceiling. He ducked his head and peered thoughtfully at the wizard, one hand lifting to grasp the edge of an arched wing absently. "Two, which I believe might be plausible. Of course, both are extremely dangerous and come at a price few are willing to pay."

"Sev-"

"Tell me," Severus snapped, lifting a hand to quiet Draco. He leaned forward expectantly, his eyes wide and his breathing heavy as he awaited the information he'd long been seeking.

This time, it was Harry's turn to smirk smugly. "I'm afraid that's not the way it works," he purred, lashes dipping to hide his sparkling orbs. A soft laugh fell from his lips at the wizard's indignant look, the sound echoing in the bright chamber. "Nothing is free in the demon world, Severus Mathias Snape. However, for the right price, I'll happily part with the information you seek." His eyes shifted from Potions Master to the blond standing silently behind him, brow furrowing as he calculated the cost.

Face flushing in anger, Severus shook his head violently. "I'm not going to play this game with you, demon spawn," he snarled. "I have you caged. You'll give me the answers I want or I'll leave you here to rot."

Laughing in delight, Harry tipped his head and rustled his wings. "I can assure you that as forgetful and easily distracted as Sirius may be, eventually he'll remember where I am," he drawled. He dropped a hand to fondle the hurlbat swinging from his hip. His fingers slid over the metal lovingly, sharp nails brushing smoothly along the sharpened iron blade. "Besides, Remus is also currently upon the plane and he's much more reliable than Sirius."

"How much?" Severus snarled in resignation. He eyed the raven-haired demon as he stalked back and forth, the heels of his boots ringing on the uneven stone floor. His shoulders hunched as Harry hummed in thought, lifting a shaky hand to tangle his fingers in his greasy locks.

"I don't deal in mortal coin," Harry finally said, a devilish grin creasing his face. His words froze the Potions Master in mid stride and narrowed Draco's eyes. Shrugging his shoulders, he clasped his hands behind his back and peered at the pair calculatingly.

He spoke the truth, of course. Harry James Potter didn't deal in coin because he had no need for it. Trapped within the bowels of Hell for eternity, there was only one thing the Retriever accepted for his services. And that was time. He dealt in minutes, seconds, and hours. Days, weeks, and months. As long as he held up his end of a bargain, he would be unreachable for the set number of days he'd demanded. In that time, he was a free demon, able to do as he wished. It was a clever ploy, one that had won him the respect of many demons. And on occasion, it had earned him the wrath of Hades - much to his amusement.

Frustration creeping into his voice, the wizard huffed unhappily and spat, "What the hell do you want?" His eyes narrowed warily as the demon chuckled softly, the sound tightening his hands around the grimoire and his wand. He drew a deep breath to ease the tension in his shoulders, unclenching his fingers one by one as his lungs inflated.

"I want twenty minutes alone with Draco," purred Harry, "in which to speak with him."

"Absolutely not!" The Potions Master roared, ruby sparks shooting from the end of his waving wand. Sputtering in fury, he stormed the length of the chamber, his dark robes hissing across the floor behind him. Whirling around, he leveled the tip of his wand on the frowning demon, his teeth grit as he fought for some semblance of calm. The sound of Draco's voice froze him, his eyes snapping shut as the words his godson spoke registered.

"Five minutes," Draco stated into the silence. He prowled forward quietly, his arms crossed over his chest as he glared at the raven-haired demon. A pale hand was lifted arrogantly as Severus whispered his name, a quick shake of his head reaffirming the silent command.

Tipping his head, Harry eyed the blond. "Sixteen," he countered easily. At this point, any time alone with the blond would be welcome.

"Six," Draco calmly said.

"Fifteen," the Retriever returned.

"Seven."

"Fourteen."

"Eight."

"Thirteen."

"Nine."

"Twelve."

"Ten minutes and thirty seconds," Draco snapped, his eyes slitting as the raven-haired demon pursed his lips and hummed in thought. His left foot began an impatient tap, the sound echoing in the empty chamber. He shot a quick glance at Severus, noting the dangerous gleam in the older wizard's eyes and the way he was rolling his wand between his fingers. Lips compressing, he returned his gaze to Harry and lifted his chin arrogantly. "That's my final offer, demon."

Nose crinkling, Harry sighed and dipped his head, acknowledging the wizard's declaration. "Your terms are acceptable," he breathed finally. Straightening, he shifted his gaze to Severus and locked his fingers around the handle of the hurlbat. "Your first option is to petition Hades for the brand's removal. He has been known, upon occasion, to remove a demon mark from an individual's body if he feels their reasoning is sound. Although I don't believe stupidity has ever been considered a good explanation for anything, he might find it amusing and remove the brand just to spite the demon who placed it there."

"Petition Hades?" Severus screeched, face flushing a brilliant shade of scarlet. In a fit of rage, he hurled the grimoire at the farthest wall, watching in satisfaction as it struck the stone and dropped to the floor. The thud from the tome's landing ricocheted around the room, causing the flames of the torches to quiver and dance.

"It has been done," Harry assured, tucking his wings tight to his body. He cuddled within the warmth of the dark appendages, fighting back the goose bumps marching their way up his arms. His body heat was diffusing as the coldness of the dungeons settled about him, leaving him pale and shivering beneath his tan. Taking a deep breath, he launched into the second option. "I believe you will find your second choice much more appealing than the first. A demon's death negates all of its brands. Kill Voldemort . . . and you'll be free."

"That's your big idea! Kill Voldemort!" Severus scoffed angrily.

Harry grinned at the wizard's disgust, lifting a hand to run gentle fingers over the hilt of the sword strapped to his back. "My purpose upon this plane is to see Voldemort executed. When I accomplish this task, the Dark Mark will vanish. The blackness around your soul, however, will remain until Hellequin and his hunters come for you." The raven-haired Retriever suppressed a shudder at the name of Hades finest hunter. Hellequin was the devil's emissary. It was he, and his merry band of demons, who ferreted out the damned and escorted them to the gate's of Hell. Hellequin was feared by all, and rightfully so. Many who roamed the passages of Hell had been delivered there by the black-faced male; Sirius among them. "I've given you what you wanted, now I want my ten minutes and thirty seconds."

"I think not," Severus barked, storming back toward the demon with his hands on his hips. He gave a sharp shake of his head and curled his lips into an angered sneer. "What you gave us isn't even worth twenty seconds. You-"

"Leave, Severus," Draco said quietly. He turned icy eyes upon the open-mouthed Potions Master and arched an eyebrow, lips pursed. A slender hand was lifted gracefully, forestalling any protests the older wizard would have voiced. "A deal is a deal," he reminded, turning his gaze to the dark-haired demon. His hands clenched on the cloth of his robes, fingers tangling in the silk as he listened to Severus' unhappy rumblings. Closing his pale orbs, he waited patiently for his godfather to take his leave, his ears picking up the heavy sigh of surrender the wizard emitted before trudging toward the door.

Opening the door of the chamber, Severus stilled and glanced over his shoulder, dark eyes narrowing on the watchful demon. "I'll be right outside, Draco." The threat contained within those few words was enough to bring a small smile to Harry's lips, and a frown to the Potions Master's face. Gritting his teeth, he raised his wand in warning and stepped through the portal, softly closing the thick wooden door on his heels.

Draco opened his eyes and inhaled slowly, staring at Harry with his brow furrowed. He raised his chin as he pulled a small silver watch from his pocket, flicking it open lazily and glancing at the ivory face. "Your ten minutes and thirty seconds has begun," the blond stated. Widening his orbs, he closed the watch with a snap and crossed his arms, tilting his head and peering expectantly at the raven-haired demon.

Harry gave a slow blink and inhaled lightly, shifting nervously within the circle. "I would never willingly harm you," he said in a rush, immediately regretting the rash words. Giving a soft hiss, he stretched his wings and reached for the hurlbat, fingers smoothing over the metal in a comforting stroke.

"Really?" The blond bit out, pale eyes blazing. "Yet you blatantly lied to me. You pretended to adore me. You even flirted with me in a most obscene fashion! And you're not even human! Do you know what my father would say if he found out?" Shaking his head angrily, he began to storm back and forth, his robes lashing the floor with every quick turn.

"Your father-"

"Lucius Malfoy! The man who sired and raised me. My doting father. And my mother, Narcissa Malfoy. You can't even begin to imagine what she'd say if she discovered I was consorting with a demon. I mean, you hardly even look human! Tell me, Harry, who were your parents?" Draco demanded, halting directly in front of the raven-haired demon and placing his hands on his hips. His nostrils flared with each breath he drew, face flushed with the fury he felt.

Harry stiffened, glowing emeralds narrowing. "I have none," he rasped. His shoulders hunched as the wizard stared at him in silence, embarrassment reddening his cheeks at the confession. Then again, telling someone you were spawned and raised by a bevy of Vianti Imps wasn't exactly a good conversation starter.

"You weren't birthed?" Draco snapped, clearly appalled by the idea. He gave a delicate shudder and wrinkled his nose, fingers smoothing down the front of his robes. "And to think I was attracted to you," he mumbled snidely.

"You admit to being attracted to me?" Harry asked, tipping his head and watching the wizard through eyes carefully shielded with sooty lashes. His nostrils flared slightly as he drew a deep breath, testing Draco's scent. What he found made his eyes flare, the gleaming orbs returning to their former emerald in half a heartbeat. The blond wasn't telling him something.

Planting a hand on his hip, Draco curled a lip and glared at the dark-haired demon. "Attraction wanes," he purred, the words laced with promise.

"Lair!" The Retriever yelped, flinging his wings wide. The dark appendages flexed against the dome that contained him, the horned tips forcing the magic to bend unnaturally. A shiver racked his body as he deprived himself of the warmth of his wings. "I want the truth."

Amused by the demon's tantrum, Draco gave a slow shake of his head and withdrew his watch. He gave a soft hiss as he looked at the face before returning his eyes to the demon. "Unfortunately, you're out of time." A smile slid across his lips at Harry's angered snarl. His pale orbs danced, sparkling in delight over the dark-haired male's anger. "If you knew me as well as you thought you did, you'd of known better than to make a deal with a Malfoy." Bowing his head, he offered the demon a sweet smile and spun around, striding toward the door.

"You cheated me out of my ten minutes!" Harry roared. His teeth gnashed as his wings pummeled the air, hands clenching and unclenching. Both surprise and pleasure over the wizard's cunningness flowed through him, though neither was displayed upon his stony countenance.

Draco chuckled softly, halting next to the thick wooden door. "Goodbye, Harry." With a final glance over his shoulder as he turned the handle, Draco winked at the demon and vanished into the shadows of the dungeon, Harry's outraged cries ringing in his ears.

XxXxX

Once again, a very heartfelt thank-you to everyone who took the time to read and review.

Brookslocklear – Next chapter  
Mangacat201 – lol, there will be several more interesting twists before I bring this story to a close.  
thrnbrooke – One would think, but I'm sure Hades will find something else to ground Harry for.  
Pleiadeswolfe – Yah, this chapter wasn't done when I posted the other one. I figured it would have been way to long if I'd included everything I wanted to in one chapter.  
Crystal Malfoy – I'm going to have a bit of trouble adding any really good Draco/Harry action in the next few chapters but at this point in time I can promise a happy ending.


	16. Acceptable Manipulation

DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter and all other characters and locations belong to J. K. Rowling.

**Chapter Sixteen - Acceptable Manipulation**

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Twenty-three minutes and forty-six seconds after Draco had swept from the room, Remus and Sirius returned. The pair slipped like ghosts from the shadows, paling as glittering emeralds locked upon them. Exchanging nervous glances, the Incubus and minor demon crept closer to the ring of salt. They stilled warily when a hiss of warning slipped from the raven-haired demon's lips, the threatening sound accompanied by the flash of delicate fangs. Seconds crept by as the two regarded the third with unblinking eyes.

Bored of the silent staring match, the Retriever tipped his head and dipped dark lashes to hide glowing orbs. "Release me," he breathed harshly. His wings rustled softly as he stretched them, the dark scales shimmering in the light cast by the dancing torches. A hand covered in dried blood reached out and caressed the air before the Incubus' face, fingers curving gently to rake nails down the magic surrounding him.

"Are you going to go on a murderous rampage?" Remus asked cautiously, eyes slitting as he took a small step backwards. He arched his own wings gracefully, giving the heavily muscled appendages a cursory flap that had the Retriever's short kilt swirling in the breeze. His eyes widened in fright at the admonishing snarl that slipped from the dark-haired demon's mouth, the sound enough to close his wings and bring a whimpered apology to his tongue.

With a swat of his hand, Harry stilled his swaying kilt and glared at Remus, shimmering emeralds narrowed at the Incubus' impertinence. "I can assure you," he replied after a moment of thoughtful silence, "that I have my murderous urges well in hand." Pasting a devilish smile upon his face, he dropped his right hand to the hurlbat dangling from his belt, fingers wrapping lovingly around the weapon's handle. "However, should you continue to refuse me my freedom, I'll happily see that you're returned to Hell in several bloody pieces. Now, release me."

Face significantly paler, Remus nudged Sirius away from the circle with the tip of one outstretched wing. "Perhaps you should remain in there until you calm down," he murmured. The yowl of outrage that escaped the Retriever had him wincing and taking another small step backwards, futilely attempting to slip into the weak shadows hovering at the edge of the chamber.

"And perhaps you should release me," Harry returned with a snarl. His blazing orbs swung to Sirius, narrowing as the minor demon lifted a hand and ruefully rubbed the back of his neck. He inhaled deeply and closed his eyes, holding the air in his lungs for several seconds before releasing it in a drawn out sigh. "I promise not to kill whoever lets me out," he wheedled, attempting to appear as non-threatening as possible - and failing miserably.

"You promise?" Sirius repeated doubtfully, his brow furrowing as he studied the wide eyed Retriever. Ignoring Remus' protesting rumbles, he meandered toward the table on the far side of the room, idly lifting a thin silver stir stick from the stained wood and examining it carefully. He pursed his lips when Harry nodded and shifted his gaze to Remus, grinning at the horrified expression on the Incubus' face. "See, he promises," the minor demon assured Remus, beginning to walk purposefully toward the waiting Retriever.

"What are you doing, Sirius?" Remus snapped, folding his arms over his abdomen protectively. He frowned as the other demon lifted the stir stick pointedly and gave it a light wave in the general direction of the salt circle, his meaning quickly becoming clear. "You can't let him out! In his current state he's liable to kill somebody!" Wings fluttering wildly, he shot the smirking Retriever an angered look and began stalking toward Sirius.

"And it's probably going to be you," the minor demon said regretfully. Shrugging his shoulders apologetically, he dropped to his knees next to the thick line of salt and extended the stick, preparing to break the circle and free Harry. The tip had barely brushed the floor when he was knocked sideways, the thin silver rod clattering loudly across the uneven stone ahead of him.

Heaving a disgusted sigh, Harry watched in bemusement as Remus and Sirius rolled around on the floor. He didn't have time for this. Oh, at any other time on any other night, the entertainment would be well appreciated. However, on this particular night, the pair's quarreling was simply frustrating. His eyebrows began a slow slide upward as the Incubus and minor demon wiggled across the stone toward him, grunting and cursing the entire way. Emerald orbs brightening gleefully, he tensed, his lips curving into a triumphant smirk. A soft chuckle escaped his mouth when the magic surrounding him collapsed, the scuffling pair coming to an abrupt halt against his legs.

It took mere milliseconds for them to freeze, hands and mouths stilling as their eyes locked on the muscled legs they were pressing against. And as realization struck, so did Harry. His hands closed roughly around their necks, fingers tightening as he tugged them forcefully apart and hauled them roughly to their feet. "It's just become very obvious to me that the pair of you have forgotten who's in charge," he spat.

"I was going to let you out," Sirius quavered, gray eyes widening as Harry snarled. He chanced a quick glance at Remus and paled, whimpering at the murderous expression on the Incubus' reddening face. "You promised," he said in a rush, hands lifting to wrap lightly around the Retriever's wrists.

Drawing a deep breath, Harry slowly loosened his grip, eyelids falling to half-mast to shield glowing emeralds. "So I did," he rumbled. With a light shrug of his shoulders, he released the pair completely, curling a lip in distaste as they dropped to the dungeon floor and cowered like beaten dogs. Giving a light shake of his head, he stretched his wings outward, groaning at the tug and pull of recently abused muscles. Heaving an appreciative groan, he closed the scaled appendages with a snap and stepped neatly over Sirius, gliding across the chamber to where the grimoire lay upon the dirty stone. "I have a task for the pair of you," he announced, scooping the ancient tome up and studying it through narrowed orbs.

"Anything, Harry, anything!" Sirius yelped, groveling in true minor demon fashion.

Across from him, Remus frowned. "What type of task?" He asked suspiciously, pushing slowly to his hands and knees. His wings remained tucked against his back, his shimmering orbs locked submissively on the cracked cobblestone between his splayed fingers. A quick upward flick of his eyes showed that the Retriever was no longer paying them any heed, his attention having been completely transferred to the book he now held.

"One which you shall both enjoy very much," the Retriever murmured. Smiling victoriously, he dragged his nails down the cover of the grimoire, tearing the aged leather and parchment easily. With one final scratch, he dropped the ruined book, laughing cheerfully as it was consumed by flames the moment it struck the floor. A fond smile teasing his lips, he swung around, orbs shimmering a deadly jade. "Now, get up," he hissed, "and follow me." Confidant in their ability to follow the most simple of commands, Harry turned and stalked toward the closed portal, eager to get down to business.

As soon as the pair arrived at his heels, he increased his pace, lengthening his strides as they wove their way through the depths of Hogwarts' dungeons. His eyes were unblinking, nostrils flaring with each delicate inhalation. The weight of the sword resting between his shoulder blades was soothing; it's presence a calming reminder of his task, and the one he was about to assign his minions. Evil smile twisting his features, he glanced back at the pair to assure himself they were paying attention. Noting that they were indeed listening, he drew a deep breath and began. "I want their every dream and desire. Each fear and nightmare they possess. I want to know what makes their hearts race and their blood run cold." Eyebrow arching, he darted a quick glance over his shoulder. "That is your task. Fail . . . and I will kill you - slowly. Very slowly."

"Hades Horns'," Remus breathed in appreciation, ignoring the threat the Retriever had tacked on at the end of his statement. Bobbing his head, he rubbed his hands together and smiled happily. "No problem, Harry."

Sighing, Sirius smiled and tipped his head. "I love it when he gets all vengeful," he said loudly, wincing as Remus elbowed him. He narrowed his eyes on the Incubus, lips curling into a silent snarl. One hand rubbing his aching ribs, he returned his attention to the dark-haired demon leading them steadily toward the main halls of the castle. "What are you going to do?" He asked in a whisper, his caution earning him a nod of approval from Remus.

Frowning, the Retriever reached up and wrapped his fingers around the hilt of the sword peeping over his shoulder, the digits sliding lightly over the cold metal. "I am going to speak with Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore ," he purred, "and then I'm going to go and kill something." His announcement was met with groans of dismay and whimpers of 'unfair'. Emerald orbs narrowing, he shot a look of warning back at the pair before loping quietly up a staircase. He halted at the top and glanced around, Remus and Sirius coming to a stop to either side of him. "You've got your assignment, now go."

"Uh, Harry?" Remus whispered, shifting nervously as glowing emeralds swung slowly to focus on him. "You didn't give us any names." He ducked his head at the Retriever's soft growl, shuffling anxiously in place and holding his breath while awaiting the dark-haired demon's response.

Sooty lashes drooping, Harry allowed a small smile to twist his lips. "Hermione Jane Granger, Ronald Billius Weasley, and Neville Longbottom. All of them can be found in one of the castle's uppermost towers." He tipped his head in thought, trying to remember if there was anything else he should tell the pair before sending them off. With a shake of his head, he gestured Sirius and Remus onward, dismissing them with casual wave of his hand. However, at the last minute, his fingers closed in the pale fabric of Sirius' shirt, bringing the minor demon to a sudden stop. "Before you go," he murmured, extending a glowing finger toward the other demon's temple.

"Harry!" Sirius shrilled in protest.

Ignoring Sirius' squeal, Harry pressed the tip of his right finger against the minor demon's head. A small trickle of power allowed him to browse through the other male's mind as one might books in a library. He delved and discarded various thoughts and worries, growing more impatient with each trivial memory he uncovered. Unable to relive one more tedious bit of conversation, he began to withdraw his probing magic only to slow his retreat at a flash of something interesting. His magic surged at the flicker, entrapping the memory in a web of energy so the Retriever could review it at his leisure. It took Harry no more than three seconds to gleam everything he needed to know from the snippet. He released the thought and withdrew, stepping away from the minor demon and giving his head a shake to clear it.

"Are you done?" Sirius asked snidely, lifting a hand to rub his temple. He jumped at the Retriever's soft hiss, offering a meek apology before scuffing at the floor with the toe of his boot.

Mind churning, Harry resettled his wings and frowned. "Don't you have something to be doing?" He demanded, narrowed orbs allowing for no argument. Lips compressed, he tipped his head and glared into the surrounding darkness.

As Remus opened his mouth to offer his excuses, the Retriever turned and glided down the hall, vanishing among the shadows. Sniffing indelicately, the Incubus turned and looked at Sirius, lips lifting slowly in a wicked grin. "I get the witch," he announced, blue eyes shimmering unnaturally. He gave a crazed giggle and unfolded his wings, shooting the minor demon a challenging smirk before disappearing with a pop.

"But I wanted the witch," Sirius whined to the empty hall. Rolling his eyes, he crossed his arms over his chest and pouted as he began to fade into the shadows. His form blurred and then disappeared completely, leaving the hall silent and empty once again.

* * *

Harry wasn't surprised to find Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore sitting silently behind his desk, a glass of milk in his hand and a plate of cookies resting upon a stack of parchment. Slipping quietly from the shadows, the Retriever dipped his head respectfully, glittering orbs never leaving the old wizard. After a quick scan of the room, he prowled forward. "Greetings, Albus Dumbledore," he purred, opening his wings in a graceful sweep. A light inhalation detected no trace of surprise in the wizard's scent, which meant he had already been alerted to Harry's presence within the school.

Acknowledging the greeting with a bob of his head, Albus regarded the demon warily, blue eyes narrowed. "Severus informed me that the spell was successful," he replied easily. His glittering orbs remained on the dark-haired immortal standing imperiously before him, fingers clenching on the glass he held. "I was also told that another demon accompanied you here."

"Remus, an Incubus," returned the Retriever. The corners of his mouth pulled up at the wizard's disgusted grunt, eyes dancing deviously as he fastened his gaze on the bookshelf that contained the first grimoire. Shooting the Headmaster a calculating glance, he began a nonchalant glide around the room, fingers trailing across various trinkets and toys. "Of course, I imagine Dwayne's arrival shall be much more entertaining."

"Dwayne?" Dumbledore repeated, a frown sliding over his features as he watched the demon idly spin a large globe located in the far corner of his study.

"As I failed to slay Voldemort before being banished from this plane, Hades took the liberty of assigning another Retriever to see the task completed. Dwayne, one of my brethren, is that unlucky demon." Harry halted in front of a bookshelf crammed with books, his eyes narrowing as he searched for the spine of the grimoire. Tipping his head, he took a long whiff, searching for the smell of sulphur or brimstone. "I imagine he'll arrive some time tomorrow. Then again, he was never the darkest demon in Hell, so it might take him a few days to find the place."

Dumbledore straightened at Harry's words, the milk in his glass sloshing dangerously close to the rim. "Whatever do you mean?" He asked sharply, reaching forward to place the glass next to the plate of cookies. His eyes narrowed as Harry made a noncommittal noise and shrugged his shoulders, continuing to scan the shelf of books he stood before. "Why would he be coming here? He should be going to Voldemort's headquarters!"

"He has to find Voldemort first," Harry explained, amusement colouring the words. His nose wrinkled at the slightest hint of brimstone, the smell concealed beneath several layers of carefully placed magic. "That means beginning where I left off. I could, of course, assist him, but that would be cheating." Orbs narrowing, he stretched out his aura and attempted to locate the beginning of the first concealment charm.

Mouth opening on a shocked gasp, Dumbledore glared at the demon angrily. "Cheating? People are dying and you're worried about cheating!" He sank back in his chair, breathing heavily as his hands fisted and his eyes narrowed. "I thought executing Voldemort was an honour any demon of your kind would kill for. Are you telling me you no longer want that honour?"

Harry stilled at the wizard's words, his magic swirling menacingly around his body. If he didn't no better, he'd think the old mortal was trying to manipulate him. He turned slowly and peered at the wizard, his head tipped slightly to the right, and murmured, "it was actually more of a privilege." And yet another chance to rub his prowess and hunting skills in the face of every other Retriever in Hell.

Dumbledore waved the demon's words away with a flutter of his hand. "I imagine it was a privilege you had earned," he said. His eyes widened as he leaned forward and placed his hands palm down on the top of the desk, fairly exuding a sense of self-righteousness he had no business feeling.

That look was enough to rouse Harry's anger. He absolutely loathed it when people attempted to manipulate him. Shielding his blazing eyes with dark lashes, he considered how he should react, and internally smirked when the answer slid into his mind. Narrowing his shimmering emeralds, he puffed out his chest and arched his wings. "I did earn that privilege. All of that killing and maiming I was forced to do! And let's not forget the fact that I spent half my time up here freezing my balls off! I mean, what has Dwayne ever done to deserve an honour like executing Voldemort." Allowing his wings to droop, Harry glared moodily at Dumbledore. "But if I kill Voldemort now, Dwayne will get all the credit. If only there was something that would make it worth my troubles . . ."

"What would make it worth your troubles?" Dumbledore asked, right on cue.

It was as if they were performing a well rehearsed skit, Harry thought, fighting down the urge to laugh as he began his next line. "Oh, I don't know," he purred coyly. Frowning as if considering his options, he waited a moment before replying, "perhaps the grimoire currently in your possession?" He smiled then, a devious grin that twisted his features and erased any sign of the humanity he may have possessed.

Face darkening, Dumbledore glanced at the bookshelf behind Harry and straightened in his chair. "That's all?" He asked suspiciously, rising stiffly and circling the desk. His eyes remained locked with the demon's as he strode toward the bookshelf that contained the grimoire, his movements slow and unsure.

"You have nothing else I desire," Harry stated calmly. He folded his wings and graciously stepped aside at Dumbledore's approach, allowing the wizard to pass by him unhindered. Turning lightly on the balls of his feet, he watched Dumbledore withdraw his wand and point it at the cluttered shelves, eyes narrowing at the rush of magic that filled the room. Moments later, the concealment charm visibly shuddered before vanishing completely, leaving the spines of several questionable books on display. However, Harry had eyes for only one tome, and that was the ancient grimoire resting between two dark arts books.

"I give you this book and you'll slay Voldemort?" Dumbledore asked nervously, obviously requiring some measure of reassurance from the dark-haired Retriever. A flick of his wand had the tome sliding from its place and falling lightly into his hand, its cover flaking in his grip. He raised his eyes to meet Harry's glowing orbs, his fingers tightening on the book before he slowly held it out to the demon.

Gliding forward, Harry extended a hand and stilled, his lips curling angrily when the mortal tugged the book beyond his reach. "I promise," he spat, wings rustling in an irritated manner at the look of disbelief Dumbledore pinned him with. This time when the wizard offered him the book, he seized it and danced backwards, holding his prize aloft. Before the old mortal had a chance to do anything, he tore the book in half and chucked the pieces into the fire crackling in the hearth. As the flames turned a brilliant green and inhaled the tome, he turned his gaze back to Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore and bowed. "It was nice doing business with you," he said. Straightening, he swung around and left the wizard's office, a dangerously gleeful grin curving his lips. He had a demon to see about a sword.

* * *

"You know, I was once in a brothel that looked exactly like this."

Arching a brow, Remus turned slowly to glare at Sirius, his lips clamped together. "I don't want to hear about it," he hissed. Giving a shake of his head, he glanced around the room and shuddered. Everything was so red. And what wasn't the most ghastly colour of red was the gaudiest shade of gold imaginable. Lips curling in disgust, he prowled silently across the large room, winding his way between large tables and softly padded chairs. "And since when did brothel's have books?" He immediately regretted the blurted question, lifting a hand to forestall the minor demon's lecture.

"Actually, I didn't see those," Sirius mused, his eyes traveling over the tomes cluttering the narrow shelves of a massive bookcase. "However, this brothel in Paris - or was it in London? Anyway, it had some of the most interesting books I'd ever seen. Why, there was even one about-"

"I didn't know you could read," Remus snapped loudly, his words bringing a halt to the minor demon's tirade. He rolled his eyes as Sirius' face began to grow flushed and he lifted a finger in warning. "Remember why we're here. Now, you can take both wizards and I'll take the witch. Since I'm an Incubus, I believe that makes me much more qualified to deal with her." Bobbing his head in agreement with his brilliant deduction, he prowled in the direction of the staircase that reeked of lavender and roses.

Shaking a fist at the Incubus' back, Sirius hissed angrily. "It had pictures!" Putting his nose in the air, he stalked toward the second staircase, mumbling the entire way. He halted on the first stair and spun around, watching with narrowed eyes as Remus leapt onto the landing at the top of the girls' stairs. "And when this is over, I'm telling Harry!" Ignoring Remus' threatening snarl, he flipped the Incubus off and scuttled up the steps that led to the boys' dorms.

* * *

Harry padded quietly through the shadows, his eyes locked on the massive castle standing before him. He lifted his chin and inhaled, eyes drifting closed at the smell of brimstone, sulphur, and demon magic. With a small smile curving his lips, he reopened his eyes, the orbs glowing a brilliant shade of jade. Giving a light flutter of his wings, he stalked toward the dark building, his gaze sweeping over the grounds in search of life. A sudden surge of power stilled him, his aura flaring at the light brush while he tilted his head and searched the spreading magic for a signature or scent. What he found drew a growl from deep within his chest and caused his hands to fist.

Dwayne.

Snarling in outrage, the raven-haired Retriever began a liquid lope toward the nearest window. There was no way in Heaven that the other demon had found Voldemort's headquarters on his own, which meant Hades had helped him. The fact that Hades had aided the blond Retriever in locating the High Court Demon was like a slap in the face. At the same time, it was an insult to Dwayne's hunting skills, an insult Harry would be sure to share with the rest of Hades' Retrievers.

Without bothering to slow down, Harry leapt at the window, the glass shattering around his hurtling body and slicing at the exposed skin of his chest and arms. He landed gently and flung his wings open, bits of glass crunching under his feet and sliding free of his hair. Not bothering to conceal his presence, he strode angrily toward the portal, lifting a hand to the hilt of the sword resting against his back. The weapon slid easily from its sheath, hissing softly as it was withdrawn. Giving the blade a light twirl, the dark-haired Retriever glided through the halls of the castle, following the scent of demon magic and the steady pulse of power that raised the hair on his arms.

Three minutes and fifteen seconds later, he stood hidden in the shadows outside a torch lit chamber, his narrowed eyes locked on the blond Retriever pacing back and forth. His fingers wriggled on the hilt of the sword as the other demon growled, the muscles in shoulders tightening as he resisted the urge to explode into the room roaring in a crazed fashion. Instead, he waited patiently, like a cat before a mouse's bolthole. And his patience was well rewarded.

"Tell me where he is!" Dwayne snarled, his lowered gaze focused on something beyond Harry's sight.

Curious, the raven-haired Retriever crept forward. His eyes narrowed at the sight of a wizard draped completely in a black sprawled upon the floor, a mask of silver hiding his face. Tensing as Dwayne sprang forward and grabbed the mortal by the front of his robes, Harry inhaled and took a creeping step closer. He froze when the blond Retriever backhanded the wizard across the face, the force of the blow sending the silver mask clattering to the floor. Glittering emeralds widened as milky skin and familiar blue eyes were suddenly exposed. It was Draco, and yet it wasn't. This wizard's jaw was stronger, his pale hair much longer. "Lucius Malfoy," Harry breathed, testing the name that Draco had given his father.

The sound of his voice caused Dwayne to stiffen and carelessly drop the wizard, his head tilting as his nostrils flared. "Who's there?" The blond Retriever demanded, turning completely to face the doorway. He drew a rapier from the sheath hanging at his waist, its blade glinting under the torchlight.

Realizing he'd given away the element of surprise, Harry tightened his grip on his broadsword and drew a deep breath. "Dwayne," he crooned, slipping silently from the shadows, "how delightful to see you again." An evil smile bloomed upon his face, emerald orbs glowing eerily.

"Potter!" Dwayne shrilled, hefting his weapon and angrily advancing on the other Retriever. He stopped when Harry casually swung his sword up and leveled the tip at him, the heavy blade appearing extremely menacing when compared with the light rapier the blond carried. "Hades grounded you. You're not even supposed to be on this plane!"

Harry widened his eyes innocently and shrugged his shoulders. "One cannot refuse a Summons, Dwayne Cornelis Fourcade." His use of the other Retriever's full name brought an angered sneer to the demon's lips, the tip of the light rapier coming within centimeters of his chest. Batting the blade forcefully away with his sword, the dark-haired demon surged forward and wrapped the fingers of his free hand around Dwayne's throat. "In truth, I can't wait to return home and tell everyone that little Dwayne needed Hades help to find Voldemort." He grinned and flipped his sword expertly in his hand, sliding it back into its sheath effortlessly.

Dwayne gurgled a response and narrowed his eyes, attempting to bash Harry in the back of the head with the hilt of his sword. Harry, in turn, smiled and snagged the blond Retriever's waving hand, his fingers tightening until the familiar sound of breaking bone and popping tendon filled the room. The rapier fell to the floor, rattling sharply against the stone as it bounced. "Deja vu, Dwayne?" He purred, slamming the demon against the wall beside them. "Perhaps I should just kill you and get it over with. I mean, you're obviously not a good Retriever. Why, I just watched your pitiful attempt at interrogation, and frankly, I was embarrassed to be from the same plane as you. As far as I'm concerned, Hades' Retriever's are better off without you among their ranks."

"Do it, Harry James Potter," Dwayne gagged, "and spend the rest of eternity chained to the foot of Hades' throne."

"Do you really think you're so valuable that he'd cage me because I chose to slay you?" Harry asked, clearly astonished at the thought. A light chuckle escaped his mouth and he whirled around, flinging the other Retriever in the direction of the door. He watched in satisfaction as the blond demon crashed into the wall next to the open portal, whimpering as his head connected with the dark stone. Bending down, Harry picked up the rapier, his shimmering emeralds flicking to the wizard watching him with frightened eyes. Brow furrowing, he straightened and turned back to Dwayne, lightly bouncing the weapon in his hand. "It will be I who executes Voldemort. You, Dwayne, shall stay out of my way." In a lightning quick movement, he threw the rapier, internally wincing as the sharp blade slid through the blond's right shoulder and pinned him to the wall.

Shrugging his shoulders indifferently, Harry spun back around and fastened his eyes on the wizard climbing slowly to his feet. Lips drawing back from dainty fangs, Harry smiled sweetly and advanced on the mortal. "You and I, Lucius Malfoy, are going to have ourselves a little chat."

* * *

And as always, a big thank-you to everyone who took the time to read and review! I hope everyone had a happy Easter weekend.

hieisdragoness18 – Yes, I do indeed read Kim Harrison. Harrison is one of my favourite authors, although her last book was a tad bit upsetting for me to read.


	17. Divine Intervention

DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter and all other characters and locations belong to J. K. Rowling.

**Chapter Seventeen - Divine Intervention**

* * *

Shrugging his shoulders indifferently, Harry spun back around and fastened his eyes on the wizard climbing slowly to his feet. Lips drawing back from dainty fangs, Harry smiled sweetly and advanced on the mortal. "You and I, Lucius Malfoy, are going to have ourselves a little chat."

XxX

Ignoring Dwayne's persistent screams for release, Harry paced closer to Lucius Malfoy, amusement lighting his eyes as the wizard frantically patted his pockets. The relieved cry that escaped the mortal's mouth heralded the appearance of a wand within his hand, the tip lifting jerkily to point at Harry's bare chest. Eyebrows arching, the raven-haired Retriever slowed his glide, emerald orbs locked on the glowing length of wood. "Lower your wand, wizard", he crooned softly, opening his wings in a beguiling manner. He froze at a particularly raucous cry from behind him, his wings snapping closed as he whirled to glare at the other Retriever. "Really, Dwayne, must you squeal like a stuck pig while I'm conducting business?"

"I'm going to kill you, Potter!" Dwayne screeched, prying at the blade spitting him to the wall next to the door. Steam rose from the wound as the iron slowly seared his flesh, his bloody fingers scrabbling desperately at the golden hilt quivering just beyond his grasp. Amber eyes rolling wildly, the blond Retriever spat futilely in Harry's direction, earning himself nothing more than a condescending sneer.

"It will take a much better demon than you, Dwayne Cornelis Fourcade," Harry murmured coldly. Sighing lightly, he returned his attention to Lucius Malfoy, eyes widening when he realized the wizard was no longer where he'd been left. A flash of movement near the far wall turned his head, his eyes catching the smallest glimpse of dark robes before a shifting bookcase slammed closed. Shoulders slumping, he turned burning emeralds upon Dwayne and snarled, "now do you see what you've done?" Without thought, he launched himself across the room, his entire body crashing recklessly into the sturdy walnut shelving. Shredded parchment and torn leather flew through the air, the thick shelves groaning plaintively beneath his weight.

Glittering orbs narrowing in outrage, Dwayne loosed a shriek that rattled the glass panes in the windows. "I'm going to tear you apart, you bloated pigeon! Feather by feather and finger by finger until you beg for mercy! The angel's in Heaven will hear your wails of pain!"

Harry stumbled back from the bookcase and gave his head a shake, lifting a gentle hand to probe his nose. His eyes slitted in disgust as his fingers slid through blood, the coppery smell overwhelming his senses. Teeth grit, he turned his gaze and anger upon the nearest object of insignificance, which just happened to be Dwayne. "Shut up, you feeble-minded moron!" He bellowed, tugging the hurlbat from his belt and hurling it forcefully across the room. One of the razor sharp blades bit into the wall next to the shouting Retriever's head, bringing him to an abrupt halt as his eyes locked on the shining metal.

A satisfied hiss slipped from the raven-haired Retriever's lips, his orbs glowing with a feral light. He turned back to the bookshelf and growled, stretching out a powerful arm and sweeping the remaining books from the crooked shelves. Narrowing his eyes, he glanced over his shoulder at the silent demon pinned to the wall beside the door. "Remember my words, Fourcade," he rumbled, burying his nails deep within the walnut wood of the bookcase. With a wiggle of his fingers, he wrenched backwards, tearing the heavy bookcase from its hinges.

"Hades will hear about this, Potter!" Dwayne barked in response to the veiled threat.

"I'm sure he will," Harry replied in disinterest, carelessly tossing the bookcase aside. Laughing lightly, he stared at the gaping hole in the wall, a delighted shudder running down his spine. With one final glance at Dwayne, he bent his knees and leapt over the ruined bookshelf and the books it had contained, hurtling into the welcoming darkness of the passage. He barreled down the corridor silently, his wings tucked tight against his back as he lifted his nose like a hound scenting a frightened fox. In the distance, the hurried slap of boot heels against stone was a tempting lure, the noise aiding him far better than any smell.

It took him less than thirty-five seconds to run the wizard to ground. He slowed his pace when the running mortal came into sight, sliding gracefully into a light footed lope that carried him ever closer to the panting man. A muffled bay erupted from his throat, the sound drawing a cry of fear from Lucius Malfoy. Heart racing, Harry erupted from the shadows behind the wizard like a rabid wolf, his teeth bared and his eyes wild. As the blond scrabbled with the latch of another hidden door, the raven-haired Retriever struck. The force of his impact carried them through the hidden doorway and into the main hall.

Harry fell back nimbly, his heart pounding and his nostrils flaring as he observed the stunned wizard. He drew a deep calming breath, holding the air within his lungs for a moment before exhaling slowly. As calmness settled upon him, he scanned the hallway quickly, taking in the low burning torches and the narrow windows barely concealed by red velvet hangings. His watchful eyes returned to Dracos' sire, delighting in the almost tangible smell of fear emanating from the mortal.

"Get back!" Lucius Malfoy squawked, spinning around and stumbling backwards until his back slammed into the wall. He brandished his wand wildly, swinging its sparking tip back and forth. His eyes widened in startled recognition as Harry glided forward, mouth falling open as the demon arched his wings and gave a shallow bow. "You, half-blood scum!"

Harry heaved a deep sigh and lifted a hand to rub his right temple, the glow in his eyes fading. "The scum is warranted," he drawled, "though I'm afraid the half-blooded part is unacceptable." His wings rustled, plated scales rasping against each other in a soft hiss. "I am as pureblooded as you, Lucius Scorpius Malfoy, perhaps even more so."

Mustering up his courage, Lucius gave a disdainful sniff and ran his narrowed eyes up the dark-haired male's form. "I dont know who you think you are-"

"Allow me to introduce myself," Harry purred, taking pleasure in the indignant look that crossed the blond's face as he was glibly cut off. Straightening liquidly, the Retriever folded his wings and lifted his chin, flashing curving fangs in a polite smile. "I am Harry, a friend and companion of your son, Draco."

"Draco!" Lucius practically screamed, eyes widening at the mention of his son and heir's name. "My son would never associate with the likes of you, you . . ."

A throbbing purr trickled from Harrys' mouth, his eyes becoming shuttered by dark lashes. "Demon," he breathed softly. The whispered word seemed to echo in the corridor; a promise of pain and death should it come to that. He chuckled lightly, opening his wings in an explosive movement that caused the wizard to utter a startled shriek and press closer to the wall behind him. "And you, Lucius Malfoy, owe me."

Blinking, Lucius stared at the dark-haired demon in silent incomprehension. "Owe you?" He parroted, the tip of his wand dipping. His eyes darted to the left and right, seeking some means of escape. Deciding to make a mad dash for safety, he began to shift his weight, freezing when the tall male appeared suddenly within his path.

Fairly radiating excitement, Harry smiled. "I saved your life. Therefore, you are in my debt." Taking pride in his cleverness, the Retriever cocked his head, emeralds shimmering brightly. "I wish to collect immediately," he stated reasonably.

"Saved my life? From what?" Lucius snapped, planting his hands on his hips and glowering at the demon. He couldn't help the anxious tapping of his foot, nor could he help the narrowing of his eyes. Opening his mouth to loose an angered tirade upon the male claiming to be a friend of his son, he halted, eyes widening as the entire demeanor of demon changed. In the blink of an eye, the dark-haired male went from sociable and civilized to demonic.

"Dwayne would surely have killed you had I left him to continue his interrogation," Harry snarled, growing suddenly weary of the game he was playing with the mortal. His eyes took on an unnatural shine, the emerald orb expanding until only a narrow slit of black remained. He stretched his wings in a restless movement, the dark scales glimmering under the waning light of the torches hanging upon the walls. "A life debt is owed. It would be best for you to repay me now, before I have a chance to think of a truly heinous task for you to complete."

Realizing he didnt have a choice, Lucius huffed unhappily and flipped his hair back over his shoulder. "What do you want?" He spat in disgust, eager to get these dealings done with.

"Draco," Harry responded ruthlessly.

Lucius glared at the demon silently, his mind trying to wrap itself around the prompt answer. When dawning comprehension rose, he blinked once, and then narrowed his eyes angrily. "Pardon me?" The question was little more than an outraged growl.

"I want your son. As hard as it may be to believe this, I happen to adore Draco. The only thing from preventing me from having him is you. Therefore, to fulfill your debt, you will make whatever assurances are necessary in order to allow Draco to have a relationship with me free of guilt." Harry explained calmly. A devilish smile crossed his lips as the expression on the wizard's face darkened. "Of course, if that's to much to ask of you, I'll just take your heart now. I am feeling a mite peckish," he added unnecessarily.

Lucius drew a calming breath, his fingers clenching on his wand. He knew his options were limited, in fact, he didn't seem to have any. "Fine," the wizard bit out, "I'll write him as soon as I return to my manor."

A shallow bob of his head was the only indication Harry gave that he'd heard the wizard. "It was good doing business with you," Lucius Malfoy. He swung around and began to slip back into the shadows, halting just beyond the light cast by the torches. "Should you renege on our agreement, Ill kill you." With that said, he faded into the darkness and vanished, leaving the blond staring at the spot he'd disappeared and silently wondering what he' condemned his son to.

* * *

Harry returned to Hogwarts in the early hours of the morning. Clouds had begun to gather above the school, releasing large flakes of snow that drifted silently to the ground. Between the heavy clouds, the moon hung low in the sky, its pale rays valiantly lighting the castle's grounds and the forest beyond. Warily glancing around, the Retriever began a slow stalk in the direction of the massive building, slowing when the strong smell of brimstone became apparent on the cold wind. Brow drawing down, he expanded his aura rapidly, swinging in the direction of the Forbidden Forest when the area lit up like a Christmas Tree under the touch of his magic.

Demons. Dozens of demons. All of them waiting silently within the tree line. All of them watching Hogwarts with an intensity rarely found in minor demons.

"Dark times are these, Harry James Potter."

The melodic purr had Harry stiffening, his dark wings unfurling slowly as he tipped his head to the left. Closing his eyes, he inhaled deeply, searching the winter wind for the pungent tang of sulphur and brimstone. His eyes snapped open when the breeze swirling around him strengthened, the sudden blast of icy air filling his nostrils with the scent of ambrosia and honey. "They are indeed dark, Lily Madelyn Evans," he replied calmly. He turned reluctantly to face the angel, sketching a shallow bow before lifting his eyes to meet shimmering emeralds uncannily similar to his own.

After a moment of silence, the tall woman tipped her head, hands smoothing the light fabric of the Grecian gown she wore. "So the rumours are true," murmured the red-haired angel, "you do have my eyes."

Harry merely nodded his head warily, glittering orbs drifting to the ivory wings folded behind the female's back. He had never met Lily Madelyn Evans before, but he had heard stories. Whispers and rumours that she was once one of Hades finest Retrievers. During the time she had resided in Hell, it was said that only one other Retriever in Hades retinue could best her: James Mortimer Porter, her lover and partner.

The pair had loyally served the God of Death for five long centuries, right up until the day Zeus paid Hades a visit. Zeus, maddened by the number of demons causing conflict upon the mortal plane, demanded Hades do something about the problem. Hades, in turn, agreed to limit the time his demons could spend upon the plane and increase the number of Retrievers at his call. And as a final sign of good faith, he gifted Zeus with Lily and James. Thus, creating the first pair of angels in Zeus' arsenal.

As if knowing where his mind traveled, Lily tipped her chin and offered him a fierce smile. "Rumours also say that you're better than I ever was." Her eyes flashed angrily, her smile becoming a bearing of teeth. "You have no idea, Retriever, how tempting it is to see if there's a shred of truth to that bit of gossip."

Harry couldn't help but return the snarl, half curious as to whether or not he could defeat the angel in battle. With one last rolling growl, he closed his wings and took a small step backward. "The laws forbid such a thing," he stated, planting his hands on his hips in an attempt to appear neutral. His chin lifted and his eyes narrowed suddenly, hands clenching in the cloth of his kilt. "Tell me, angel, why do you interfere in the business of Hell?"

"Hell's business is fast becoming Heavens'," Lily retorted, wheeling around and indicating the Forbidden Forest with a wave of a delicate hand. Under the light of the moon, she shone ethereally, her red hair appearing haloed. Her wings opened in a soft whisper, the moonlight catching the gleaming feathers and turning them a pale gold. "Demons amass before your very eyes, and yet you question my presence? I am your warning, Retriever. Zeus is greatly displeased with Hades inattention and has decided to act upon it. In two nights, if Hades has not recalled his army, Zeus will dispatch his."

Harrys eyes widened at the announcement, the smallest shiver of excitement running up his spine. "You speak of war?" He asked, the incredulity of the thought colouring his words and face.

Her expression darkening, Lily dipped her chin and nodded gravely. "An unholy war, Harry James Potter." She turned her eyes to him, the glowing orbs narrowing at the delighted smile curving his lips. Teeth grit in disapproval, she gave an angered shake of her head. "The thought of war should not bring happiness to your heart," she hissed, wings rustling softly as snow swirled down around them.

"But it does," the raven-haired Retriever replied easily, a hand lifting absently to caress the hilt of the sword riding his back. It wasn't his fault of course; every demon loved a good war. In fact, next to sex, war was a demon's favourite activity. And if you asked a demon to choose which one he preferred, he'd be hard pressed to give an answer. Giving a light shake of his head, Harry fixed his gaze on the demons gathering in the shadows. "Just as it would once have warmed yours."

"Past are those days, Retriever." Lily muttered, raising her eyes to the moon. She stared silently at the pale crescent, absorbed in some inner dialogue only she could hear. A small smile slid across her face as she lowered her gaze, her flashing eyes landing unerringly on the hand resting on his hip. "Your presence upon this plane defies Hades edict. Tell me, why are you here in this place of snow and magic without your Lord's blessing?"

Muscles tensing at the comment, Harry dropped his gaze to the simple circular tattoo on the back of his hand, eyes narrowing. "How did you know that?" He rasped, lifting his head and glaring at the angel. A soft rumble vibrated his chest at the serene expression on Lily's face, his hands clenching as he prepared himself for her response.

"As demons speak, so do angels. And sometimes, they even speak to each other." Amusement lit shimmering emeralds, the orbs dancing merrily at Harry's disgusted snort. Lifting a shoulder in an elegant shrug, Lily took five quick steps forward, bringing herself within inches of the raven-haired Retriever. "I still have friends who dwell within the depths of Hell. Friends who are only to happy to divulge the latest gossip to an old colleague. Do you know what they say about you, Harry James Potter? They say you're a combination of James and myself. That Hades recouped his loss by creating you: a single Retriever to replace his prized pair."

Harry sneered at the angel's words, taking a nervous step backwards as she pressed closer. "I am the best there is," he hissed tersely. "The best there ever was." His wings lifted proudly, the dark scales seeming to swallow the little light the moon offered.

In a strike far faster than any bolt of lightning, Lily wrapped narrow fingers around his throat. "Cockiness will get you killed, Retriever," she breathed, slitted orbs gleaming with a light no angel's should hold. Her fingers tightened slowly, her nails biting into the side of Harry' neck as he remained docile within her grip. With a final squeeze, she released him, shooting an annoyed look skyward. "Your motives for being upon this plane, at this time, are scarily pure. You seek to protect someone . . . a mortal male, how strange."

Swallowing, Harry resisted the urge to rub his bruised throat and raised his chin, one hand lifting to clasp the hilt of his sword. "My business here is none of your concern," he snapped roughly. He frowned when the angel merely smiled knowingly, a glint of smugness appearing upon her face. Teeth grit, he shook his head, displacing the flakes of snow that had gathered upon the tangled locks. "I am not good, angel. I'm a merciless killing machine. I have slaughtered hundreds without a thought. I cheat, lie, and steal as is my wont. I, Lily Madelyn Evans, am a demon spawned within the darkest corner of Hell."

Lily dipped her head in acknowledgment of the Retrievers rant, her eyes sparkling with barely contained mirth. "I know what you are," she said softly, lifting a hand slowly toward his face. As her fingers came to rest against his forehead, they vanished in a ball of blinding white light, the sudden glow vanishing as quickly as it had begun.

Harry jerked away from the angel's touch, curling his lips back to expose glistening fangs in warning. "What was that?" He snarled, lifting a hand to touch the spot on his forehead that burned like ice. A hiss of anger escaped him at the feel of raised skin beneath his fingertips, the jagged ridge floating just above one narrowed emerald.

"Zeus has bestowed his blessing upon you, Retriever. Now, gather your brethren and return Hades unruly servants to Hell. Perform this task, Harry James Potter, and you will be well rewarded." Bowing her head in dismissal, Lily took four precise steps backward and then opened her wings. She turned her face toward the sky and lifted her arms, emerald orbs glowing unnaturally. In a brilliant flash, she vanished, leaving nothing more than footprints in the snow.

Hands fisting, Harry hissed unhappily and closed his wings with a snap. "Now I really need to kill something," he muttered, wincing as the mark on his forehead flared. Growling softly, he spun around and walked toward Hogwarts, sparing the silent demons hovering in the shadows one final glance. Although it was none of Albus Dumbledore's concern, he would have to be alerted to this new threat. With that thought in mind, Harry opened his wings and launched himself into the slowly lightening sky.

It was easy enough to locate the window that belonged to the Headmaster's study, as it was one of the few that boasted a light at this early hour. Tilting his wings, Harry dropped smoothly through the narrow opening, his unannounced arrival startling the pair of wizards sitting before the fire. He landed with a powerful crash of his wings, setting his feet gently upon the floor and whirling to face the gaping mortals. The scales of his wings rasped as he strode forward, chin lifting arrogantly. "I bear news, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore." The soft hiss of cloth turned his head, bringing his eyes to the greasy-haired wizard perched across from the Headmaster.

"It better be good," Severus Snape growled, the teacup he held crashing down upon the saucer resting on his knee.

Shooting the Potions Master a disgusted glare, the dark-haired Retriever shook his head. "Voldemort's army gathers within the shadows of the forest beyond this castle." His announcement brought expressions of disbelief to the faces of the pair, their eyes widening fearfully. In an explosive movement, the two wizards pushed up from their chairs and rushed to the closest window, peering anxiously in the direction of the Forbidden Forest. "Oh, you won't see them. At least not until Voldemort gives the order to attack."

"How many are there?" Albus asked wearily, his gaze locked on the edge of the forest. His eyes narrowed at the distant wailing of some unknown beast, his fingers clenching around the heavy stone sill of the window he stood before.

"Perhaps six dozen, maybe more," the dark-haired demon responded vaguely, fluttering a hand to indicate that the number meant little to him. And it didn't. Retrievers were battle hardened and trained for war. Common demons simply killed whatever caught their fancy. If it came down to it, a Retriever would always triumph over an average demon. However, six dozen was a lot of demons for one lone Retriever to handle, which simply meant Harry would have to call in reinforcements. "Of course, its still early."

"Still early?" Severus croaked, dark eyes widening as Harry gave a slight nod of his head. His eyes jerked back to the silent Headmaster, fingers anxiously seeking out the comforting length of his wand within his pocket. "I knew nothing of this," Albus, he hissed, distress evident in his voice. He pulled his wand out and began to roll it nervously between his fingers, his anxiety drawing a small laugh from the Retriever.

Stretching his wings, Harry moved closer to the fire blazing in the hearth, happily soaking up the heat the crackling flames exuded. "They'll attack one night from now when there's no moon. That gives Voldemort approximately twelve hours of moonlight in which to recruit more demons." He gave his head a light shake, displacing the small droplets of water that clung to the tangled strands of his dark mane. His eyes drifted from the snarling fire to the pair of wizards, sooty lashes dipping down to shield glowing emeralds. "I will assume he'll use his time wisely and call as many rogue demons to his side as possible."

"The Ministry must be informed of this development," Dumbledore muttered, pushing away from the window and turning toward Harry. He absently stroked his beard as he plodded toward the hearth, his steps slow and unsure.

"You may summon any number of wizards, Albus Dumbledore, and watch as my cousins slaughter them." Harry stated, absently scratching his chin with the tips of his fingers. He took a small step backwards, pressing closer to the fire and reveling in its heat. "Death is the only thing that awaits a mortal in depths of that forest. I believe it would be best if you allowed my brethren and I to handle this matter."

Dumbledore halted, his brow furrowing as he stared at the raven-haired demon basking in the warmth of his fire. "What do you mean?" He asked quietly, tensing as glowing emeralds shifted to him. Unable to resist the urge, he lowered a hand and slid it into the pocket of his robes, wrapping cold fingers around the length of his wand. A shiver racked him as a smile crossed the demon's face, the slow baring of teeth raising the hair on his arms.

"No spell or charm will stop those demons, Headmaster. It's simply a matter of brute force and reputation." He lifted a hand and brushed the hair off his forehead, exposing the mark carved into the skin above one dark eyebrow. His eyes narrowed as he ran a careful finger over the jagged scar, remembering the words Lily had said before returning to the Heavens. "The mere presence of my kin and I will be enough to send many of them scampering back to Hell. Those that remain . . . will simply be used as examples to the rest of the Hades' Court." Harry grinned deviously at the thought, his left hand straying to the hilt of the sword resting against his back.

Severus began to shake his head, his eyes widening when Dumbledore dipped his head in acceptance. "Headmaster, you can't seriously be considering this monster's plan." He choked out, striding hurriedly toward the older wizard. His gaze slid to the smirking demon, his jaw clenching as the raven-haired male winked at him.

"I'm afraid Harry is correct, Severus. The Ministry is not equipped to deal with demons," muttered Albus. He glanced sadly at Fawkes perched silently in the corner, brilliant plumage shimmering like the fire burning in the hearth. His gaze slid back to Harry, a small bob of his head confirming his previous statement. "Do what you must," he finally said, turning away from the gloating demon and listlessly drifting in the direction of his desk.

Harry laughed softly and tipped his head, black wings arching above his back. "Thank you, Albus Dumbledore," he purred, shooting a triumphant look at Snape before swinging around and exiting the study. Even as he prowled down the circular staircase, his sensitive ears picked up the strained argument occurring above him. However, he knew that he had already won. Harry and his brethren were the only chance that Hogwarts had of surviving a simultaneous attack by Voldemort's Death Eaters and his demons.

* * *

In the small chamber within the depths of the dungeons, the same one he had left only hours ago, the dark-haired Retriever paced. His eyes continuously moved to the broken ring of salt upon the stone, hands fisting as he mentally attempted to prepare himself for what he'd have to do in the coming hours. He unfolded and refolded his wings, ignoring the scrape and rasp of dark scales stroking against each other.

Lily Madelyn Evans had been presumptuous in informing him of what he should do. She was, however, nonetheless correct. Only the appearance of several well-armed Retrievers would have any affect on the trespassing demons. This, in turn, meant that the long-standing feud, and competition, between the Retrievers would have to be put on hold for one night while they gathered together.

"Stupid angel," Harry mumbled, resettling his wings. His head lifted at the whisper of feet upon stone, nostrils flaring. The tell-tall whiff of brimstone that accompanied the silent individuals had him relaxing, his wings drooping slightly. Turning his head, he observed the pair's quiet entrance, eyebrow arching curiously when Sirius shoved past Remus to reach him first.

"Harry, Remus-" The minor demon stopped abruptly. Eyes narrowing, he leaned closer to the Retriever and stared fixedly at his forehead. After several moments of this, he straightened, his mouth falling open and his right arm rising. When his index finger was level with Harrys forehead, it halted. "Sweet Darkness, he was touched by an angel!" He squealed, jabbing the dark-haired demon in the head with the tip of his extended finger.

Frowning, Remus gave a shake of his head and swatted Sirius arm aside. "He was not," the Incubus muttered disdainfully, slipping closer to inspect the mark. His narrowed eyes widened when it became evident that the other demon was right. "Hades horns!" He gasped, grabbing the Retriever by the chin and dragging him closer.

Anxiously bouncing next to the pair, Sirius cast his frantic gaze around the chamber. "Quick, Harry, sully yourself!" He broke out, hands fluttering uselessly before him. "You're too bad to be good!"

"Calm down," Remus snapped, head tilting to the left. "All he has to do is kill something." He helpfully added, ignoring the slitting of the Retrievers eyes.

Eyes brightening, Sirius bobbed his head in understanding. "Yes, that'll work. Zeus won't want an angel that kills indiscriminately." An excited smile twisting his lips, the minor demon glanced at Harry, reaching out and patting him comfortingly on the shoulder. "You should kill Remus," he whispered softly, "Hades can spare an Incubus or two."

"I'm not killing anything," Harry snarled, tired of their fussing. Roughly, he pushed the pair away and straightened. Staring at the stunned duo, he frowned, lifting a hand and dragging his fingers through his hair. "Well, I'm not killing either of you," he amended. His words brought immediate looks of relief to the faces of Remus and Sirius, the pair exchanging grateful glances.

Turning away from the two, the Retriever glided the length of the room, chewing his bottom lip thoughtfully. After several minutes of useless pacing, he spun to face the pair and arched a dark brow. "What information do you have for me?" He demanded, hands dropping to his waist. His fingers smoothed over the place the hurlbat had rested, surprise flitting through him over the twinge of loss he felt for the weapon.

Sirius practically lunged forward; his eyes glowing as he eagerly waved a hand. "I did the wizards, Harry!" He announced loudly, ducking his head when shimmering emeralds narrowed upon him. Peeking through his bangs, he scuffed one foot nervously. "The redhead is afraid of spiders. He also fears that the bushy-haired witch will transfer her affections to the fat wizard called Neville Longbottom. Longbottom seems to be afraid of Severus Snape. That's a very strange fear to have. I thought Severus was a delightful wizard. Why-"

"Enough!" Harry barked, eyes drifting to Remus. He arched a brow in silent question, tucking his wings against his back.

"The witch is afraid of Voldemort and failing her classes. Both fears seem reasonable in my opinion," the Incubus murmured, dipping his wings. He stared warily at the Retriever, shifting his weight from foot to foot as he awaited the dark-haired demon's verdict.

Harry gave a faint dip of his head, already considering his options. "I'm going to take a nap," he muttered, whirling around and giving the pair his arched wings. As if sensing his mood, the pair fled the room, leaving him to his own company and the strenuous task of selecting which Retrievers he was going to call.

* * *

A/n: Thank you to everyone who took the time to read and review! Draco and Harry interaction in the next chapter, I promise. It was going to be in this one, but I felt that it was best if I left it out for now.

Moonlight Princess - lol, I share your sentiments completely. If it came down to it, I'd rather have my butt whooped by an incompetent Retriever than facing a well trained one.  
hieisdragoness18 - no, that wasn't an intentional line, I think it just came out like that.  
Brookslocklear - All in good time, and I spared Lucius just for the hell of it. Although I must admit his future in this story isn't looking very good, we'll just have to see if he survives his brush with Harry's kin.  
SLNS - H/D action in the next chapter. This has been the hardest story I've written where it seems impossible to include a lot of romance. I'm honestly trying but its very difficult.  
MangaCat201 - oh, Harry and Draco's moment has already been planned to perfection. And the epilogue, well, I can't wait to write it.  
parseltongue girl - Your potty mouth has been excused, lol.  
PleiadesWolfe -I think Harry's talk with Lucius went well, don't you?


	18. On the Eve of War

DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter and all other characters and locations belong to J. K. Rowling.

**Chapter Eighteen - On The Eve of War**

* * *

It was the disconcerting feeling of being watched that dragged Harry from the arms of Morpheus. Without altering his breathing or lowering the wings wrapped tightly around his chilled body, he expanded his aura, cautiously searching the narrow chamber. His power flit through the room, alighting on each article and fixture hidden within the darkness until, at last, the seething energy settled upon a beacon of power resting a mere eight feet from the raven-haired Retriever.

Muscles tensing, Harry eyed the individual's aura, his magic highlighting the streaks of ivory and gold tracing delicate patterns within the ebony energy. As if sensing his touch, the shadowy individual stretched out their aura, forcing Harry's magic to retreat. That light brush was all Harry needed. Muttering an inaudible curse, he opened his eyes and inhaled softly. Immediately the smell of ambrosia and iron overwhelmed his olfactory senses, the taste of iron so strong upon his tongue his narrowed orbs watered.

"Were on the eve of war, Retriever, and you sleep," the being stated calmly, taking a soft footed step forward.

Snorting disdainfully, Harry lowered his right wing and glared over its edge at the interloper. "And you consider harassing me more productive, James Mortimer Porter?" He snarled, his lips curling into a disgusted sneer. His emerald orbs flashed when the dark-haired Angel chuckled lightly, the sound raising the hair at the nape of his neck. Fluidly he rose, eyeing the former demon skeptically as he stretched his wings.

Dressed in a white loincloth with a gold braided cord circling his hips and matching sandals, James Porter didn't appear the least bit frightening. The twin swords peeping over his shoulders, however, did give the Retriever pause. Cautiously, Harry reached for the hilt of his sword, sliding his fingers over the metal in a comforting caress.

Noting the demon's movement, the shaggy haired Angel reached for one of his blades, his calloused digits grasping engraved silver. "No, but it's definitely more entertaining," James drawled. The Angel took a delicate step backward, tilting his head to the side as his gaze swept over the Retriever. Brow furrowing, he opened heavily feathered wings, carelessly displaying the steel gray appendages. His sapphire orbs narrowed, long lashes unable to hide the eerie glow emitted by the twin spheres.

Following the Angel's gaze, Harry smirked slowly, his eyes drifting back toward the dark-haired male's arched wings. "They're bigger than yours," he purred smugly, lifting his sooty wings tauntingly.

"They are not!" James snapped, furling his wings quickly. Brow crinkling, the Angel glared at the demon, his knuckles whitening on the hilt of his second sword. Taking an aggressive step forward, James hunched his shoulders and then stilled, his head tilting to the side as his expression darkened. With an unhappy hiss, he released the weapon and retreated a few steps, rolling his eyes as he went. "I'm not supposed to fight with you," he admitted grudgingly.

"Leash a little short?" Rebuked Harry, widening his eyes innocently.

Releasing an outraged bellow, James struck. His sword whistled through the air, the metal gleaming under the faint light cast by the torches hanging on the walls. He realized his mistake when the Retriever sprang nimbly to the left, the sword he'd been fondling held tightly in his right hand. Uttering a grunt of self-loathing, James accepted the blow the demon dealt him, wincing as the iron weapon connected with the back of his skull and sent him to his knees.

Shifting restlessly on the balls of his feet, Harry twirled the sword he held, watching the Angel rise slowly through shimmering orbs. "I thought you weren't supposed to fight with me?" He quipped, tilting his head to the right. His wings grated together as he moved, the noise rivaling the rattling of chains.

Straightening carefully, James turned to face the waiting demon. "I was sent to aid you in the completion of your task," he snarled, lifting a hand to probe his aching skull. He cringed at the pain that radiated from the spot he poked, gritting his teeth together. Drawing a deep breath, he lifted his chin and glared at Harry, his fingers tangling in the dark locks that swung about his face.

"I neither need nor want your help," Harry stated, hefting his sword. He eyed the dark-haired Angel for a long moment, his emerald orbs glowing with a sinister light. For several seconds he waged an internal war, fighting the urge to mercilessly slaughter the former Retriever. A visible shudder racked him, the sudden tremor seeming to bank the fire burning within his eyes. "Be gone, Porter," he rasped finally. Taking a small retreating step, he gave a curt nod and then spun around, gliding toward the door.

"Do you really think any Retriever you summon will want to help you, Harry James Potter?"

Harry stiffened at the drawled question, his fingers clenching around the golden hilt of the sword he still clutched. He turned slowly, eyebrows lifting in question. "Whatever do you mean?" Although spoken softly, the query was laced with a deadly combination of malice and curiousity. Wings rustling, the Retriever prowled toward the smirking angel.

Offering the demon a smug smile, James lifted his chin and widened his eyes. "Do you really believe any Retriever who answered a Summons would do so out of the goodness of their heart?" He shook his head slowly, his grin growing. "Of course not. They'd come merely to see who had the audacity to attempt such a thing. And maybe, just maybe, once they had finished breaking every bone in your body, they would listen to your explanations."

Emerald orbs flashing, the Retriever tilted his head, carefully considering the Angel's mocking words. He nibbled on his lower lip and absently slid the sword he carried into its sheath, fingers remaining lightly on the tanzanite set in the hilt. "You underestimate my brethren," he stated finally. Not a trace of doubt coloured the statement; his thoughts, however, were filled with it. Retrievers were anything but patient. When they wanted something, they took it. If they were upset, everyone around them was quickly made aware of that fact. Chances were, upon their arrival, they'd set upon him like wolves on a lamb.

"I am your brethren." James growled impatiently. Before the younger male could respond, he lifted a hand, halting any argument Harry would have voiced. "Once, I was as good as you. My name spoken upon the Mortal plane would send demons scurrying for the safety of Hell. The place you hold in Hades' throne room was mine. And though I serve a new Lord, my job remains the same."

Shifting, Harry dipped his head in acknowledgment. "The truth you speak," he muttered unhappily. His brow furrowed as he considered his options, his hand falling away from the sword slung across his back. With a barely audible sigh, he relented, his brow smoothing and his eyes lifting to meet burning sapphires. "What do you suggest I do, then, Porter?"

"Gateway," James breathed, a wolfish smile sliding across his features. His eyes flashed, a light flickering within their depths that caused the dark-haired Retriever to shift uneasily. Chuckling menacingly, he opened his pale wings and dipped his head. "Unless, of course, you believe yourself incapable of creating a simple doorway between the planes? "

Harry caught the barely concealed implication. "Are you insinuating that I'm weak?" He snapped, hands fisting at his hips. The shadows hovering at the edge of the room writhed at the tone of his voice, pressing in on the pair dangerously. Flickering wildly, the flames of the torches leapt and sputtered intermittently, their light fading as the thickening shadows crept closer to the Angel.

"I merely asked a simple question," James denied, touching his chest lightly with the tips of his fingers. Attempting to appear as innocent as possible, he dipped his chin, his brow furrowing. "It is believed that what one hears concealed within the words of another is often an expression of one's deepest fears and concerns. Do you, Harry James Potter, believe yourself to be weak? Maybe even . . . inadequate?"

"Inadequate?" Harry repeated with a snarl. "I'll show you inadequate," he growled, hauling his sword from its sheath and beginning a menacing glide forward. A stabbing pain that shot through his head broke his smooth strides, the savage pounding centered on the lightning bolt scar set within his forehead. Hissing in pain, he dropped to his knees and pressed the heel of his palm against the mark, consciously aware of the fact that James had also collapsed and was swearing inelegantly while furiously massaging his temples.

_The pair of you had best settle down before I'm forced to come down there,_ Lily's voice whispered angrily through the darkness. Along the walls of the chamber, the flames of the torches stretched toward the ceiling, their bright light forcing the hovering shadows to retreat to the corners of the room.

"Lily, darling," James grit out between his teeth, his eyes squeezed tightly closed. "Perhaps you could-"

_Don't 'darling' me, James,_ Lily snapped. _If you could act your age for once I wouldn't be forced to monitor your actions. However, seeing as the pair of you would rather scrap like a pair of feral hounds then perform the simple task given to you, you've given me no choice but to intervene. Hence forth, Harry is in charge._

"I'm not about to take orders from some green Retriever who can't even sharpen his own sword!" James roared, immediately regretting the rash words as the pounding in his skull intensified. Clasping his head between his hands, he moaned in pain and slowly tipped forward until his forehead touched the cool stones of the dungeon floor.

_I think youll do as I say,_ the female Angel threateningly breathed. As if a switch had been thrown within their minds, the stabbing pain stopped, leaving the two males sprawled panting on the floor staring in terrified fascination at the dark ceiling. _Now stop screwing around and get to work._

"Yes, dear," James whimpered. A look of pure relief slid across his features when Lily failed to respond. Straightening carefully, he shot Harry a warning look before scrambling to his feet and smoothing down his loincloth, ignoring the noticeable trembling of his hands. "Would you prefer to mold the gate, or shall I?" He politely asked.

Still eyeing the ceiling warily, Harry stretched out his wings and then refolded them, rearranging the dark tips until they rested lightly against his back. "I've never had need of a gate and am unsure of how exactly one is created," he admitted grudgingly. Still clutching his sword, he clambered to his feet and peered nervously around, acting much like a chastised schoolboy.

Arching a brow, James shrugged and turned to face the nearest wall, his narrowed orbs sweeping over it thoughtfully. "A little bit of magic and a few runes done in blood is all it takes. It's really quite simple," he said, approaching a spot on the wall that appeared promising. His brow wrinkled as he ran a hand gently over the stone, the magic of his aura pulsing faintly.

With a wave of his hand, Harry indicated that James should begin. Rocking back on his heels, he shot a glare at the blackened ceiling and considered his options, his free hand lifting to touch the scar on his forehead. It seemed that Zeus was just as demanding as Hades. Lips curling around a silent growl, he hunched his shoulders. Harry James Potter took orders from one Lord, and sometimes that _one_ was one too many. Of course, should Hades discover his current whereabouts, he wouldn't have to worry about serving anyone or anything. Pushing the grim thought away, he turned his attention to James and the Gate that was slowly beginning to take shape before him.

* * *

"It's called initiative," Sirius snapped, shooting Remus a dirty look.

"Harry's going to kill you," the incubus replied, glancing anxiously over his shoulder in search of the Retriever. He lightly ruffled his wings before shifting his gaze back to Sirius, pondering his chances of getting through the minor demon's latest scheme unscathed.

Scoffing loudly, Sirius slid through the Gryffindor Common Room, his head abuzz with all the wonderfully horrible things he was going to do to wizards' dreams. "Harry doesn't have the time to perform a trivial thing like this. We're simply doing him a favour, one which he'll be most grateful for."

Nope, Remus thought, he was definitely going to end up in serious pain after this little stunt. Sighing, he trailed after the minor demon, his wings held tightly against his back. Please Hades, he internally prayed, keep watch over your most dutiful servant in his time of need.

* * *

Pursing his lips, Harry eyed the Gate doubtfully. Its creation had been simple really, requiring only six runes, a little dark magic, and lot of demon blood. Orbs narrowing in remembrance of how that blood had been obtained, the Retriever ran a light finger over the new scar adorning his left wrist. He tipped his head to the right and inhaled, glorying in the familiar smell of brimstone and sulphur that hung in the air about the Gate.

"All done," James announced cheerfully, stepping back and proudly planting his hands on his hips. His wings opened with a crack and he puffed his chest out, shooting Harry a look that could have been considered condescending. "Now, all we have to do is-" Mouth closing with a snap, the Angel frowned and tilted his head sideways, eyes widening as the runes surrounding the Gate flared to life.

"Is it supposed to do that?" Harry asked, absently reaching for his sword. His question was answered when James began to back up quickly, lifting both his hands to grasp the twin swords slung across his back. Heaving a mournful sigh, the Retriever tugged his iron sword free of its sheath and settled his weight onto the balls of his feet. His wings unfolded with a hiss, the dark tips swinging forward to guard his sides. He bounced the sword lightly within his hold, trying to suppress the anticipation welling within him.

Offering the raven-haired demon an apologetic grin, James tugged his swords into his hands and swung them into position. "Not exactly," he mumbled, his gaze fastened on the pulsing outline of the door drawn upon the wall. He darted another look at Harry, his grin growing at the look of excitement plastered across the Retrievers features. Ah, to be a demon again. To kill thoughtlessly without worrying about the consequences. To be merciless and rude and-

With a mind-numbing wail, the Gateway took form. Blinding light poured from its center, the glow forcing both males to shield their eyes and retreat. The smell of brimstone and sulphur became over powering; the scent carried upon a wave of dark magic that washed through the room and swallowed the light of the torches. Tendrils of darkness crept free of the Gate, sliding silently along the walls as if searching for some unsuspecting soul to drag back into the depths of Hell. And then _they_ came.

Gliding forth from the swirling portal like hunting wolves, the shadowy forms circled the room. They fanned out silently, exchanging mocking smiles that flashed sharp fangs. Hands tipped with dagger like nails reached for swords and axes, fondling the weapons with a familiarity that spoke of decades of practice. When the last individual slipped free of the gate, the portal snapped closed, leaving the room bathed in unrelenting darkness. Slowly, the torches hanging on the walls stretched tentative fingers toward the ceiling, revealing the faces of those who had passed through the Gate.

Muscles tensing, Harry shifted uneasily. His gaze swept over the eight individuals gathered around him, taking in their familiar faces and the oddly patient looks they wore. Face twisting into a scowl of displeasure, he bared glistening teeth and narrowed his eyes on the Retriever standing directly in front of him. "Maylan," he bit out, "who told you to await my call?" His assumption was confirmed when the red-haired demon tossed back his head and laughed heartily. "I'm going to kill that interfering Angel."

"You should be pleased, Potter," Maylan stated, his sky blue eyes dancing with mirth. "If we hadn't been told to expect a call for aid, you might have ended up with a bunch of insufferable morons. Instead, you got us. You should be giving your thanks to Lily, not plotting her death."

Shooting the older Retriever a disbelieving glare, Harry returned his attention to the rag-tag group. It was hard to imagine that the individuals standing silently under his perusal were of the same breed. Each was remarkably different; from the colour of their hair to their heights, the eight demons had almost nothing in common. If it weren't for the heavy black wings sprouting from between their shoulder blades and the smell of iron that hung about them, he would have assumed they were average demons. But he knew every one of them. Knew their names and reputations, their skills and their weaknesses.

"No greetings for me?" James jovially asked, breaking the lengthening silence. His seemingly sudden appearance caused a stir among the Retrievers, bringing them forward with smiles and outstretched hands.

Rolling his eyes, Harry slid his sword away and crossed his arms. The Retrievers currently slapping James on the back were ancient; the eldest of the breed still permitted to hunt. While he may not have been happy with Lily's interference, he was greatly pleased with the small force he'd been allotted. Of course, if Hades found out exactly what his Retrievers had been doing in their spare time, more than one head would roll. Which brought him back to exactly why he was huddled in the dungeons of a castle in the middle of winter surrounded by Retrievers with the mark of Zeus upon his forehead.

"Do any of you know why you're here?" He demanded, his question bringing the attention of the group back to him. A sigh escaped him when the Retrievers exchanged glances and shrugged in indifference, obviously not caring about the reason for their combined presence upon the Mortal plane. Lifting a hand, he rubbed at the lightning bolt upon his forehead, biting his lip as he fought down the urge to howl like a mad dog.

"To kill something?" A lean brunet guessed, his brown eyes narrowed in thought.

"Harry James Potter would not need our aid to kill something, Cadyn," Maylan spat in disgust, elbowing the shorter Retriever aside.

Returning the shove, the brunet snarled and reached for the short sword hanging at his waist. "Are you calling me stupid?" He hissed, his wings creeping upward defensively. With a soft whistle, the sword he carried was dragged free of its sheath, the iron blade shimmering under the torchlight.

"It sounded like he was," one of the other Retriever's interjected, his red orbs darting back and forth between the pair. Shifting his weight, he wrapped his hand around the shaft of the massive war axe he wore.

"It did indeed sound like an insult, Mortwyn," agreed a tall blond Retriever. Transferring his attention from the red-eyed demon standing beside him, the blond fisted his hands and hollered encouragement at the arguing pair.

Closing his eyes, Harry groaned softly. He could already see where this was going and it didn't look good. His thoughts were confirmed when a screech of pain cut through the air, the sound heralding the ringing of metal against metal. Opening a single emerald orb, he watched in bemusement as Cadyn and Maylan pushed and shoved, the weapons they were waving around apparently forgotten. "Gentlemen," he called loudly, ducking his head as a flailing wing swept past his face.

"You've no idea how much I've missed this," James hollered, throwing an arm around Harry's shoulders and dragging him closer to the brawl. His sapphire orbs glittering with happiness, the Angel watched the feuding demons crash into yet another Retriever, the impact bringing the trio to the floor.

Before he was given a chance to respond, Harry was shoved roughly forward. His arms waved and his wings flapped in a futile attempt to keep him free of the brawl, but it was all to no avail. With a roar of anger, he collapsed atop Maylan and immediately received a balled fist to the cheek. He, in turn, shoved his knee into the red-haired Retriever's groin. And it was about that time that the small brawl turned into a full out war, complete with biting, cursing, clawing, punching, and the occasional whack by a heavily scaled wing.

Three minutes and seventeen seconds later, Harry paused in the middle of grinding Cadyn's face into the dungeon floor to tip his head and listen to the sounds coming from beyond the door of the chamber they occupied. "Did you hear that?" He asked, his question bringing an abrupt halt to the fight. Sprawled around him in various stages of battle, the other Retrievers lifted their heads and listened.

"Someone's calling you," Cadyn sputtered finally, dropping his cheek back to the cold stone floor.

Jerking up into a sitting position, Harry listened in wide-eyed horror as his name was bellowed again. "Hades' balls," he hissed, his gaze sweeping over the interested group. "Leave! You all have to leave!" His shoulders hunched as his name was shrieked yet again, the screech ricocheting down the hall just beyond the door.

"They can't leave," James replied sharply, "they've only just arrived. And where exactly do you expect them to go? You can't just let them wander-"

Harry whirled to face the Angel, his dark wings snapping upward with a loud crack. "You will not argue with me, Porter," he growled, fingers curling into claws as he took a slinking step forward. The angered expression he wore vanished suddenly, replaced by one of fear as his name echoed down the corridor outside the chamber. Before the bellow had a chance to stop bouncing around the cavernous dungeons, the sound of stomping feet became audible to his sensitive ears. "Go now," he commanded.

"Who'd you piss off, Potter?" Mortwyn asked, his red eyes shining with a curious light. He lifted his chin and sniffed loudly, nostrils flaring as he searched the air currents for anything of interest.

Tensing, Harry swung to face the stocky Retriever, his emerald orbs narrowing. "That is none of your concern. What you should be worried about is how you're going to explain a missing wing to Hades, which is exactly what you'll be-"

"It's a mortal male," Braxton interrupted, turning his blond head to exchange a knowing look with Cadyn. "A wizard to be exact. Rather young, too. And mad enough to take on a Hell Hound by the smell of him."

Intrigued, the rest of the Retrievers all tipped up their noses and inhaled. Orbs widening, they clambered to their feet, sliding away-unused swords and daggers as they moved. Those who'd put the pieces together glanced back and forth between the door and Harry with eager expressions upon their faces.

Eyes blazing, Harry swung his head in the direction of the blond. "I swear on the blade of my sword, if you all don't disappear within the next five seconds-"

"So, what did you do to him?" Cadyn purred with a waggle of his eyebrows.

"The real question is: has he done him?" Maylan stated calmly, looking completely uninterested in the unfolding drama. Instead, the red-haired Retriever was focused on the door on the opposite side of the room.

Face flaming, Harry opened his mouth to tell the older Retriever to lick his sword but froze when the doorknob rattled. With a soft snarl, he waved his right hand in a wide arc, bringing the waiting shadows forward. In less then half a heartbeat, the loud-mouthed Angel and eight Retrievers were hidden within a cloud of darkness, leaving Harry standing alone in the narrow room.

The heavily planked door crashed back against the wall loudly, leaving Draco Malfoy standing fuming in the center of the portal. Pale eyes blazing, the blond darted an angry look about the chamber before pinning Harry with a glare. "Were you just talking to someone?" He demanded, prowling slowly toward the dark-haired demon like a hunting lion.

"Uh, no," Harry said, his leathery wings rasping together as he shifted nervously. A whisper of movement from the shadows caused him to tense, the muscles of his shoulders bunching as he prayed to Hades that the group would remain quiet.

Arching his slender brows, Draco halted in front of Harry, hands fisting. Parchment crumpled loudly, drawing the eyes of both males to the crinkled letter held tightly in the blond's right hand. Eyes narrowing in remembrance, the wizard lifted his chin slowly. "Do you know what this is?" He asked silkily, the expression on his face becoming strangely serene.

Inaudibly swallowing, Harry shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "No?" He finally choked out, feeling much like a hare beneath the talons of a hawk. He paled when the blond nodded sagely, forcing himself to remain perfectly still rather than slip into the comforting shadows behind him.

Head bobbing thoughtfully, Draco took a meandering step forward, purposely invading the demon's personal space. "Perhaps you need a closer look," he murmured softly, his left hand lashing out. His fingers closed around the lobe of the Harry's ear, the neatly manicured nails biting into the tender skin as he dragged the taller male's head down. Ignoring the furious growl that vibrated the Retriever's chest, the blond brandished the crumpled letter before burning emeralds, his nails digging deeper in warning. "Now, do you know what this?"

Harry froze at the sight of Lucius Malfoy's signature, his sudden docility answering Draco's hissed question. Rolling his eyes upward, he peered at the blond worriedly, his mind frantically searching for some excuse that wouldn't land him on the ground groaning in pain and clutching his groin. "Yes?" He said, the answer coming out with a questioning lilt to it.

"Very good," Draco cooed, jerking roughly on the demon's ear lobe. Shifting to shove the parchment beneath Harry's nose, the blond stiffened, his head lifting sharply. His eyes narrowed at a muffled snort, his grip on the Retriever increasing. "Who's there?" He barked, swinging to face the sound, not caring that Harry gave a pained grunt and stumbled blindly after him.

"There's no one else here, "Harry mumbled, wincing as the wizard dragged him round in a circle. His attempt to draw Draco's attention back to him was foiled by a noisy scuff and muted curse.

"No one there?" Draco mocked, producing his wand from the sleeve of his robes. Giving the lobe of Harry's ear a punishing pinch, he lifted the glowing tip and pointed it at the shadows from which the noises had originated. "Lumos!" His shout echoed for one breath taking second, and then the chamber was flooded with light.

Blinking against the bright golden light, the eight Retrievers held perfectly still, remaining posed in a tableau of demonic civility. Mortwyn had his hands wrapped around Maylan's neck, his knuckles white with the strain of maintaining his grip. Maylan's hands were locked around Mortwyn's wrists, his face a brilliant shade of scarlet. Cadyn was on his knees with Braxton's arm pressing against his throat, dark wings frozen in mid flap. The four other Retrievers stood in various positions of battle, their eyes shifting anxiously between the four fighting demons. James, meanwhile, raised a hand and gave a small wave, his fingers stilling when a growl trickled free of Harry's mouth.

"I'm going to kill you all," Harry blandly informed the eight Retrievers.

"He started it!" The group chorused, pushing recklessly apart and shooting accusing glances at one another.

Tugging free of Draco's lax hold, Harry straightened and rolled his shoulders, black wings churning the air. "Well, I'm going to finish it," he spat. Teeth grit, he dropped his gaze to the top of Draco's head, his entire body stiffening at the expression on the wizard's face.

"Does Dumbledore know about this?" The blond demanded, jabbing Harry in the chest with the tip of his wand. Eyeing the curious demons suspiciously, he gave the raven-haired Retriever a threatening look before backing slowly from the room, the glowing tip of his wand never wavering. "I think I'd best go and tell him what you're doing down here, "he muttered, a vengeful smile curving his lips. With one final peek at the silent demons, he zipped around the corner.

"Hades' balls," Harry mumbled, carding his fingers through his hair. He tipped his head back and exhaled loudly, attempting to ignore the barely contained chortles and snickers. It was James' quip that narrowed his jade orbs.

"Leash a little short?" The Angel called merrily across the room, returning Harry's earlier taunt.

That one line brought the Retrievers' attempts to restrain their laughter to a grinding halt. Teasing immediately commenced, some of the comments bawdy enough to bring a blush to Harry's cheeks. Cooing about Cupid and a heavenly chorus, James flounced around amongst the demons, their laughter inciting him to greater lengths of mockery.

Amidst all the commotion, Harry bared his teeth and dropped his chin, staring at the dark-haired Angel with a dangerous glint in his shimmering emeralds. First, he decided, he'd deal with his brethren, and then he'd deal with Draco. Nodding his head only once, he glided forward with a vicious grin twisting his features, cracking his knuckles as he went.

* * *

A/n: Thank you to everyone who took the time to read and review. I know this is extremely late and I apologize for it, but the RL has become a tad bit busy.

DerangedxandxSarcastic I enjoy hearing that Ive inspired people, so do go ahead and write your story. And definitely tell me when you start posting it, cause Id love to read it.  
hieisdragoness18 No, I havent read Harrisons new book, I just havent had enough time to pick it up.  
Mangacat201 lol, I couldnt help but use that line, and I think you might have been one of the only ones to get it too.


	19. A Multitude of Nightmares

DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter and all other characters and locations belong to J. K. Rowling

_Warning – Mild Swearing_

**Chapter Nineteen – A Multitude of Nightmares**

* * *

With a victorious smirk riding his lips, Harry emerged from the narrow dungeon chamber, pausing only to close the door behind him. Muted grunts and groans drifted through the wood, the sounds increasing the breadth of his smile. Heaving a satiated sigh, he stretched lazily, delighting in the pull of recently abused muscles. The tips of his wings brushed the ceiling as he rolled his shoulders, showering him in a fine rain of dust and broken bits of mortar.

He ducked his head and growled softly, shooting a displeased glare at the roof. The rumble trailed abruptly off, his chin lifting as his nostrils fluttered. His expression changed, slipping liquidly from displeasure to delight. Lips curving, he inhaled again, his lashes drifting downward as Draco's sweet scent washed over his senses. A purr reverberated through his chest, the noise growing noticeably louder as his wings began to droop. He was seconds away from becoming a contented puddle of Retriever on the dungeon floor when his eyes flew open. Immediately the purr turned into a disgusted snarl.

As he was standing there luxuriating in the blond's smell, said blond was on his way to the Headmaster's study to tattle. With a hiss of self-loathing, his wings flew open and his eyes narrowed, his entire being changing. His focus became that of a hellhound on the hunt, his feet barely brushing the floor as he swept through the castle. The path that he took was the one Draco had taken mere minutes ago, the wizard's smell a silent taunt the closer he drew to Dumbledore's chambers.

Harry slowed at finding the passage to the Headmaster's office already open, the narrow staircase brightly lit by dancing torches. Tipping his head, he listened carefully, searching for the sound of Draco's voice among the crackling of flames and the whisper of snow against the nearby windowpanes. A scowl grew upon his face as he heard the blond's cultured voice from above, his expression darkening as the young wizard continued to weave a tale any traveling bard would be enviable of. Lips twisting into a grim smirk, he prowled onward, silently mounting the torch lit stairs. He halted at the top before the closed door, leaning slightly closer to the heavy wood to sniff delicately as he lifted a hand to knock.

"Do come in, Harry," Dumbledore called jovially from within the chamber.

Shoulders hunching, the raven-haired demon lowered his hand to the knob and forcefully turned it. His orbs flashed a brilliant shade of jade as the old brass buckled within his grip, the metal taking on the contours of his hand. Barely restraining the growl that vibrated his chest, he forced the door open and stalked into the room.

"Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore," Harry murmured in greeting, his gaze sweeping the cramped study in search of Draco. A slight shift in the air currents within the room turned his head toward the fire roaring in the hearth. Slowly, he pivoted to face the triumphant blond, his orbs narrowing at the gleeful gleam in the other male's pale eyes. "Draco."

"Harry, how good to see you again," Draco purred, lifting the cup of tea he cradled to his mouth. He didn't bother to hide his smile, actually lowering the teacup marginally so the dark-haired demon could see the victorious smirk riding his lips. Brows drawing down, he slid his eyes toward the Headmaster, taking a careful sip before addressing the older wizard calmly. "There were nine of them, Professor. And the blood! It was everywhere . . . like some poor soul had been mercilessly slaughtered."

Fighting down the urge to hiss, Harry prowled further into the room, his every step imbued with quiet confidence. "The blood was theirs," he finally said, "Spilled in the heat of the moment." He turned back toward Dumbledore, carefully gauging the old wizard's reaction to the blond's damning statement. Indecision filled the air, the smell wafting from the ancient mortal's pores like smoke from a fire. "By nature, we are violent. It is a trait that has ensured Retrievers remain respected by all demons. And it protects the reputation we have nurtured carefully over the centuries."

Frowning, Dumbledore straightened in the chair behind his desk, his eyes wary as they moved back and forth between the pair. "And what reputation would that be?" He asked cautiously, his fingers seeking out the comforting weight of his wand.

One built upon a base of death, mayhem, and authorized assassinations. Oh, and lets not forget the merciless slaughter, Harry thought. Heaven, even describing them as bloodthirsty wouldn't be that far from the truth; although it definitely wouldn't earn him any points with either wizard. "A well earned one," he replied smoothly, stretching his wings toward the ceiling. His eyes flared a brilliant shade of green at the soft snort Draco emitted, the noise swiveling his head back in the blond's direction. "Of the nine individuals Mister Malfoy observed in the dungeons, only eight are my brethren. The ninth, James, was deployed by Zeus to ascertain that Hades demons were dealt with in a quick and efficient manner."

It took a long minute for the raven-haired Retriever's words to sink in, a minute in which Albus stared in mute shock at the winged male, his mouth opening and closing silently. "An Angel?" He finally managed to gasp. At the almost nonexistent dip of Harry's chin, Dumbledore slumped deeper in his chair, swiping a shaking hand across his mouth to still the quivering of his lips. "They're real."

"As real as I," Harry muttered. Of course, there was no need to tell the pair that James was a crow wearing the feathers of a dove. That not only was his halo a tad bit tarnished, but it perched crookedly atop a pair of horns. Giving a small wag of his head, he returned his attention to Dumbledore. "Their presence will be minimal in the battle that lies ahead. By rights, Zeus has no business even meddling in my Lord's affairs."

"Why do you have to be here, then?" Draco demanded suddenly, "If there are Angels to deal with the demons." His back was ramrod straight, his eyes flashing promises of pain in Harry's general direction. The thoughtful frown that blossomed across the Headmaster's face had his hands clenching around the delicate china cup he held, his body tensing as he waited for the older wizard to board the train of thought racing through his head.

Harry was unable to suppress the growl that rose up from deep within his chest, the rabid sound trickling over his tongue. "War." He spat angrily, reaching up to grasp the hilt of his sword. Draco was expertly undermining all his hard work, digging beneath the walls he had carefully constructed upon half-truths and out right lies. "A war unlike anything your plane has ever seen before. The clouds would rain down angels and the earth would spew forth demons. And together, we would tear your earth apart. Not on purpose, of course, but you'd all get in the way while we were attempting to _mercilessly slaughter_ each other."

"You all seemed to be getting along just fine when I saw you." Draco snapped in a show of temper. He took a deep breath as he tried to regain his poise, eyeing Harry unobtrusively. His movements graceful, he reached out and set his teacup down on a nearby side table, ignoring the tepid liquid that sloshed over the rim.

"James is an old acquaintance," Harry bit out, "And thus, none of your concern." He bared glistening fangs at the blond, his eyes flashing a silent warning. Rasping his wings lightly together, he shifted his gaze to Dumbledore, his head tipping as his brow furrowed. "We've matters to discuss, Headmaster. Important matters which revolve around you, your castle, and all those who dwell within it." His hand tightened around the hilt of his sword, fingers absently rubbing the tanzanite set within the metal.

Blinking at the abrupt change of topic, Dumbledore gave a grim nod, his gaze sliding to Draco's fuming form. "Mister Malfoy, please return to your dormitory," he ordered briskly. His brows rose slowly as the younger wizard turned narrowed orbs in his direction. "At once, Draco. And do refrain from taking any unnecessary detours."

Face reddening at the prompt dismissal, Draco sputtered unintelligibly. He looked back and forth between the pair, his fingers digging into the soft fabric of the armchair at the triumphant glow in Harry's emerald eyes. Finally, unable to find the words to properly express himself, he rocketed to his feet and stormed towards the door. "Just wait until my Father hears of this," he snarled, shooting the silent demon a look of pure hatred. With a final scoff of disgust, he flounced through the open portal, his hand finding the malformed knob as he passed.

Wincing at the resounding slam of the heavy door, Harry gave a slight shake of his head before prowling to the chair Draco had occupied. He dropped gracelessly onto the plush cushion and stretched his feet toward the crackling fire blazing in the hearth. "Within the next twenty-four hours Voldemort's army will attack." His eyes slid closed at the warmth emanating from the orange flames, a groan of undiluted pleasure spilling from his mouth.

Mouth falling open, Albus stared at the demon. "How-" was all he managed to say, completely flabbergast by the few simple words. He stood in a whoosh of maroon robes, circling his desk to pace worriedly in front of an obviously unconcerned Harry. His strides were short and choppy, his gait like that of a three legged doe.

"It's really quite simple," Harry replied, giving a lazy wave of his left hand. "They'll storm the castle at night when it's least expected. Your wards, while seemingly adequate, will neither stop nor slow them. Any witch or wizard who gets in their way will be killed without a second thought. And once they gain entrance to Hogwarts . . . well, it'll pretty much be a free for all." One eyelid lifted slowly, allowing him to watch the Headmaster's frantic pacing. Besides that slight movement, he made no attempt to ease Albus Dumbledore's fears or placate him with hollow assurances.

Dumbledore stood frozen, staring at Harry in horror. "The Ministry must be contacted. The Order must be alerted," he croaked, his mind reeling. There were so many things that could happen. So few things he could to do to prevent such a nightmare from actually occurring. He spun around and moved quickly toward his desk, intending to begin the writing of letters that would summon various individuals to the aid of Hogwarts.

"You will contact no one," Harry said quietly. "The matter will be handled."

Wheeling on the relaxed demon, Albus heaved a frustrated growl and reached up to tug on his beard. "Handled by whom? That mangy bunch in the dungeons that can't even get along with each other? You expect me to leave the lives of my staff and students in their hands?" He demanded angrily, freezing in mid beard pull as Harry's second eye popped open. The look in those twin jade spheres was enough to force him back a step, the action bringing a smile to the raven-haired male's lips.

Leisurely straightening his spine, Harry adjusted his wings, his gaze never straying from the wizard. "My brethren and I were bred for this purpose. To punish and kill those who choose to ignore the laws of Hell. If there is one thing we've become very good at over the centuries, it's dealing with unruly demons. We might fight over anything, for any little reason, but we do take our duties seriously."

"And you expect me to trust you? And that lot?" Dumbledore snapped in disbelief, anger over the Retriever's highhandedness overruling his fear. He drew his wand from the folds of his robes, giving a threatening wave of the tip in Harry's direction. "I will not, under any circumstance, leave my castle unguarded; or under the complete protection of you and yours. All you've shown me since your arrival is that you can be a conniving liar! And that isn't exactly a trust building characteristic, is it, Harry? I will be contacting several of my acquaintances." His eyes dared the demon to the refuse him, his entire body quivering with self-righteousness.

Harry laughed. He tipped his head back and laughed. His amused chortles rang through the room, drawing Fawkes' head out from beneath a fiery wing. Thirteen seconds later, he lowered his face, his chin still quivering and his chest falling with each heavy breath he took. "Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, do you really think I care if you trust me?" He slowly shook his head back and forth, a large grin upon his lips. "You do whatever you believe you must, just keep your sacrifices away from my kin and their blades." With another playful chuckle, he stood.

"You knew. You knew all along that it would come to this!" Dumbledore fairly roared. His face turned a bright shade of red and his fingers clenched around his wand. Pale orbs spitting fire, he flicked his wrist, watching in satisfaction as a shimmering globe of green magic shot toward the demon. His breath caught in his throat when the ball connected with the dark-haired male's middle, the magic seeming to expand on contact. In a flash of dark light the glowing orb was absorbed by the demon's body, leaving the pale skin unmarred.

Running a hand over his stomach, Harry widened his eyes innocently. "If I were you, Headmaster, I'd lock down my castle and pray to Zeus and his beloved angels." With a farewell flick of his fingers, he turned around and glided from the study, a smirk firmly seated upon his face.

* * *

Ron blinked against the bright sunlight. He lifted a hand to shield his eyes, turning in a slow circle as a familiar giggle reached his ears. "Hermione?" Brow crinkling, he stared in confusion at the sight that met his eyes. He raised a hand and scratched the side of his face, trying to make sense of what he was seeing.

Neville . . . with his head in Hermione's lap. And Hermione was running her fingers through his hair, her gaze locked on his face. A besotted smile slid over the bushy-haired witch's lips and she whispered something inaudible to his ears.

And then the bright image wavered. Darkness began to flow around the edges of the picture, creeping upwards slowly until the heavy shadows became all consuming. A shiver of fear raced up his spine as he swiveled warily, wide eyes frantically searching for Hermione and Neville. Voices reached his ears, fraught with anger and disgust.

"You're doing it all wrong," the first voice hissed.

"How would you know?" Mumbled the second voice.

"Who's the incubus here?" The first voice snarled.

"You're going to give him a wet dream? Where the Heaven does that get us?" Grumbled the first voice, seeming to relent.

With a malicious chuckle, the first male murmured, "It's my turn."

Ron frowned and tried to turn toward the commotion, only managing to wade further into the darkness. Something brushed his shoulder and he froze. Nervously, he lifted a hand and ran it across the tingling area, finding only the smooth cloth of his shirt. Just when he was about to lower his fingers, something settled lightly atop the back of his hand. Fighting down a whimper, he moved his fingers in front of his face and then screamed. He wildly waved his arm, trying to free himself of the small black spider as his shrieks rose in volume. And then another, much larger spider, alighted gently on his shoulder, its pincers reached toward the wizard's face.

Ron jerked up in his bed, his eyes flying open as he desperately searched his quit for spiders. The bed curtains surrounding his bed swung lazily back and forth, marking the passing of someone. Or something. With a frightened whimper, the redhead yanked his wand from beneath his pillow and held it over his chest, his eyes locked on the shadows above him.

* * *

How wrong Dumbledore was. In all of Harry's wildest nightmares, he'd never imagined it would come to this. Never even entertained the thought that a simple retrieval would end up in a war between the breeds. Or that he'd end up in the middle of it all with his interests being so scarily similar to those of Zeus

Mumbling a curse, he slipped sure-footedly down the stairs, pausing briefly to sniff the air before heading in the direction he'd come from earlier. Three stairwells and countless intertwining corridors later, he located his prey. Green orbs slitting, he slid into the shadows, gradually closing the distance between himself and the blond. He froze when the wizard halted in front of a tapestry and clasped his hands behind his back, casting a bored glance down the darkened hallway.

It seemed he was expected, Harry mused, smiling wolfishly. "You interfere in matters that do no concern you, Draco Malfoy." His grin grew as the blond flinched ever so slightly, his pale eyes widening fractionally as he searched the passage. Arching his wings in a threatening display, the Retriever glided free of the clinging shadows, his presence dimming the already faint light offered up by the nearest torches.

Drawing himself up, Draco whirled to confront the demon, his hands falling to rest on his hips. "Ah, but you see, Harry dearest, these matters do concern me." Orbs narrowing, he stalked toward the raven-haired male, his footfalls echoing eerily in the empty corridor. "As I am currently residing in this castle, the castle which will soon become a battleground courtesy of you and your kin, I believe my interference is extremely plausible! And if you can't wrap your pea-sized brain around the reasons for my worry, you should be cruicoed!" His last words were almost incomprehensible, ending as they did in a shriek of pure fury.

Wincing at the shrill screech, Harry lifted a hand and gently rubbed the lobe of one sensitive ear, his eyes flashing dangerously. "You'll not be harmed, this I promise," he snarled softly, the pledge sounding anything but reassuring.

Face reddening, Draco halted directly in front of Harry, one delicate finger jabbing the demon in the chest. "You can't promise me that! Things happen during war that are unforeseeable! Promising me safety is like promising me it won't be cold out tomorrow! Or that the sun won't rise! Completely undoable," he hissed angrily. His finger fell away from Harry's broad chest as he took a wary step backward, his eyes locked on the ring of red slowly growing around the dark-haired male's pupil.

"I promise on my immortal soul," Harry wheedled, lowering his lashes in hopes of concealing the fire mounting within his shining orbs. He needed to get Draco to understand. To show him the same trust he'd shown him before he knew the truth about Harry's identity.

Giving a harsh laugh, the blond tipped his head back arrogantly, eyebrows lifting. "You mean your already eternally damned soul? How positively sweet. Why, I can almost feel the love!" He raged, placing a hand theatrically over his heart.

In a fit of fury, Harry roared, the sound setting the wizard back on his heels. Chest heaving, he stared at the startled blond, his hands fisting at his sides. "I go to war tomorrow," he growled. The reaction his statement garnered was not the one he had been hoping for; nor was it even one he'd been expecting.

"So?" Draco asked ruthlessly, his shoulders rising in indifference. "So does my father, which brings us back to your insulting behaviour prior to that little performance in Dumbledore's study. How dare you-"

Harry closed his eyes and groaned inaudibly, one hand rising to gently massage the pounding that was beginning behind his right temple. His orbs flew back open when a clenched fist slammed into his diaphragm. The abruptness of the gesture caused him to stumble backwards in surprise, his wings unfurling reflexively to help him regain his balance. Unfortunately, the razor sharp hook on the end of his left wing bit into the cloth of the tapestry the blond had been admiring earlier, slashing a jagged line through the ancient material. "Hades' Horns!" He muttered in disgust, attempting to retract the sharp claw without further damaging the image worked into the cloth. Finally, after several light tugs, he snarled in frustration and gave an angered flap of his tangled wing, jerking violently on the entire wall hanging. His eyes widened and his chin jerked upward as the distinct sound of snapping metal reached his ears.

"Now look what you've done." Draco said, internally gloating over the demon's predicament. Mildly curious, and always eager to watch someone screw themselves over, he followed the Retriever's gaze toward the thick shadows above them. His pale orbs widened in disbelief, however, when he found himself peering at a massive wall of fabric that was falling unhurriedly toward them. Lips parting in shock, he realized he'd greatly underestimated the size of the tapestry and the exact magnitude of Harry's screw up. "Imbecile!"

Ignoring Draco's furious insult, Harry lunged forward and thrust his wings over the blond's head, protecting him from the heavy weight of the cloth. The sheer mass of the fabric forced him to his knees, his wings shaking with the effort to keep the material off the wizard's delicate shoulders. "This is all your fault," he informed Draco as he crouched above him on his hands and knees, the tips of his wings beginning to curl downward as the full length of the tapestry came to rest on his back.

Gasping at the scandalous statement, Draco balled his hand into a fist and dealt the demon a punch, albeit a much weaker one then the previous. "You oaf! You moron! You stupid beast! You brainless-"

In fear of losing his hearing, Harry did the only thing he could think of to shut the blond up. His lips closed over the blond's mercilessly, stilling his tongue and causing his next insult to die a silent death. For a fraction of a second, he froze, unsure of the reception he was going to receive. And then Draco parted his lips ever so slightly, the small movement causing a shudder to rack the Retriever's entire body.

He groaned loudly, the sound muffled by Draco's mouth. Silken hair feathered over the fingers he'd splayed to either side of the wizard's head, causing his dagger like nails to curl into the hard stone. Beneath him, the blond whimpered, lifting his hands unconsciously to slide them along the muscled planes of Harry's chest. Under Draco's cool hands, his muscles rippled and his tongue slid over bruised lips, sinking deeper into the blond's mouth.

With a gasp, Draco dragged his lips from Harry's, tilting his head back as he panted for breath. A soft huff escaped him as the dark-haired demon slid his open mouth down the smooth length of his throat, his tongue blazing a fiery path over the milky skin. His eyes flew open at the rasp of fangs, his fingers sliding upward to tug at the black strands cascading around his face.

Harry turned his head away from the blond's neck, pressing his nose against the flushed skin. He inhaled deeply, his eyelids drooping at the heavenly smell rising from the wizard's flesh. "Hades," he mumbled, "I love you." And then time stopped, momentarily.

"What!" Draco rasped, staring at the demon with horrified eyes.

Oh shit. Oh fuck. Please, Hades, let this all be some horrible dream, Harry thought. Highly doubting he'd receive divine intervention for such an incident, he licked his lips and returned his attention to the stiff form beneath him. Instead of replying to the wizard's yelped question, or making any other intelligent sound, he simply peered at the blond.

Watching a myriad of emotions race over Harry's face, Draco grit his teeth and balled his fingers into a fist. "Dumb demon!" He spat, slamming his fist into one glowing emerald. As Harry reared up with a pained howl, he rolled over onto his stomach and clambered to his hands and knees, scuttling away from the raven-haired male. When he finally reached the edge of the tapestry, he shot to his feet and ran down the hall, not even bothering to glance over his shoulder.

Harry, on the other hand, simply tore through the delicate material and rose to his feet. He didn't take chase, though the urge was there. Besides, even if he had captured the blond, he hadn't a single idea of what he'd say to him. With a rumbling snarl, he whirled around and slipped into the shadows, finding comfort within their protective arms.

* * *

Sliding silently through the shadows, Remus and Sirius passed through the Gryffindor dorms. The pair exchanged the odd shove and narrow eyed look, barely managing to keep from giving their presence away. Their behaviour remained the same all the way down the stairs and across the common room, although a small chair somehow managed to become entangled in Sirius' legs, thus causing him to collapse atop a tiny chess table. The crash from that particular collision echoed through the chamber, bringing both immortals to an abrupt halt before they made a mad dash toward the exit.

"You almost ruined it!" Sirius snapped at Remus, slamming the portrait aside and practically tripping out the portal.

"Ruined it!" Remus spat in return, his feathered wings arching above his back. "The only thing you need to worry about getting ruined is your face! Which is exactly where Harry's fist is go to land when he finds out what you've done!"

"Don't you mean 'what you've done'? I mean, you being the dream expert and all," Sirius mused, turned to face the Incubus just as he a balled fist hurtled toward his nose. The fist connected with unerring accuracy, ringing an eerie screech from the demon's throat.

Still trying to decide whether or not another blow was necessary, Remus stood quietly and watched Sirius try and figure out if his nose was broken. "If you even try to place this act of stupidity on my shoulders, I'll kill you." He threatened in a hiss, his wings rustling in a show of temper. Shooting a warning look at the minor demon, he vanished in a puff of smoke, leaving Sirius to contemplate his fate.

* * *

Harry stood unblinking on the roof of one of Hogwarts' many towers, his dark wings splayed. A cold wind stirred his hair and raised goose bumps along his arms; setting the black kilt he wore to fluttering lightly against his thighs. His nostrils flared as he exhaled, clearing the smell of demon magic from his nose. He lifted a hand and encircled the pommel of his iron blade, his fingers tightening as a hollow wail rose from the depths of the Forbidden Forest.

"Hades will kill them all," Maylan murmured, his sudden appearance earning nothing more than a disgruntled huff from the raven-haired Retriever. Arching his broad wings, he lazily strode forward, his gaze locked on the sprawling forest before them. He dropped a hand to the massive mace dangling from the thick leather belt he wore, fingers smoothing gently over the deadly metal spikes jutting from the heavy ball.

"At this point, Hades is the least of their worries," Harry said quietly, his eyes never leaving the heavily shadowed forest. He shifted and hunched his shoulders against the oppressing feeling of grief and despair that filled the air; the toll that came with having so many demons gathered in one small area. In the short period of time that he'd been at the castle, the sensation had grown. Tonight, it felt as if a blanket of pure malevolence had been draped over Hogwarts and its grounds.

Maylan chuckled lightly, turning his head so he could peer at the other Retriever. "Hades might be the farthest thing from their thoughts, but he's very much present in ours." He returned his gaze to the forest, his blue orbs narrowing at small flickers in the shadows among the skeletal arms of the ancient trees. His fingers tightened on the head of the mace, one of the iron spines digging into his palm and drawing blood. With a muted curse, he lifted his hand and glared at the smoking wound, his brow furrowing. "If Hades ever learns of this . . ."

"We'll all be dead," Harry said, the words nothing more than a whisper.

"We'll all be dead," Maylan agreed softly, closing his fingers around the gash in his palm. He lifted his eyes slowly, meeting Harry's perfectly empty orbs for a moment before turning his attention to the demons gathering below them.

Blinking only once, Harry lifted his chin and glared up at the sky, his lips firming. If Hades did learn of his whereabouts he'd be collared, chained, and then dragged back to Hell where he'd most likely spend the rest of his existence as a footstool in the Throne Room. Nose crinkling, he shuddered lightly and reached for the hilt of his sword, taking comfort in the cool metal. He did, however, have one other option. The scar on his brow marked him as a disciple of Zeus, and that might just be enough to distract Hades from wrapping a band of iron around his throat. Yeah, he thought, he was definitely damned if this went bad.

In a rush of icy wind, the other seven Retrievers and Remus came to rest on the tower roof. They closed their wings neatly and adjusted the dark cloaks they wore, shooting nervous glances at Harry as they moved. Prowling stealthily forward, they lined up alongside Maylan, their glimmering orbs immediately going to the slowly brightening forest.

"Can you smell them?" Cadyn asked dreamily, his eyes drifting closed as he inhaled. When he reopened them, they glowed eerily, the pupil having vanished in a flood of chocolate brown.

"Oh, aye," Mortwyn purred softly, licking his lips as he leaned forward.

Nostrils pinching, Harry glanced over at Braxton, noting the demon's flushed face and uneven breathing. He didn't need to make eye contact with the blond to know what he'd find within his shining orbs: Lust. Not for flesh, well, kind of for flesh, but more so for the blood that lay beneath that flesh. Blood lust . . . the lust for blood. And, of course, for the battle that would lead up to that bleeding. It was a strictly Retriever trait.

"I think I lost my balls somewhere around the third floor," Sirius said, his teeth chattering as he hauled himself onto the slippery tiles of the roof. He shot a glare at Maylan as the red-haired Retriever chuckled loudly, climbing awkwardly to his feet and limping toward Remus. Hands tucked into his armpits, he turned to face the direction the group was facing, scanning the seemingly abandoned forest with growing confusion. After several long minutes, he rocked back on his heels, his brow furrowing. "So, . . . what are we looking at?"

Sighing, Harry shook his head sadly. "How is it you became a demon again?" He asked regretfully, gaze shifting from the forest to the horizon. Red and mauve bloomed upon fluffy white clouds, stretching delicate fingers of pink across the pale sky. He hissed softly as the sun spilled over the earth's edge, setting the Forbidden Forest aflame. Streaks of orange and gold light consumed the darkness and all that had hidden within it, leaving the eleven demons cursing angrily and shielding burning orbs with arched wings and splayed fingers. "Back to the dungeon," Harry ordered sharply, peeking around his curved nails.

Rather than argue, the eight Retrievers tossed themselves off the tower, dropping eagerly toward the safety of the castle's lower levels. Meanwhile, Harry lowered his hand and stared intently at the Forbidden Forest, his lips curving. "Tonight, it begins," he breathed.

"Don't you mean 'ends'? As in, 'it ends tonight'? Begins would imply the start of something, whereas this will actually be the end-" Sirius blabbered happily, obviously having gotten over the traumatic climb to the tower roof. And Remus' threat of death.

"Shut up, Sirius." Harry said evenly, stepping to the edge of the roof and opening his wings. Without bothering to glance over his shoulder, he leapt into nothing and dropped gracefully toward the ground. Besides, either way you chose to look at it . . . the sinking of this sun would signify the beginnings of Harry's war.

* * *

A/N: As always, thanks to everyone who took the time to read and review. And yes, the next chapter is the one we've all been waiting for.


	20. Hell on Earth

DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter and all other characters and locations belong to J. K. Rowling.

**Chapter Twenty - Hell on Earth**

* * *

It was dusk when Harry woke. Between one beat of his heart and the next, his orbs flew open and his nostrils pinched, his aura expanding and contracting in the blink of an eye. His senses worked to locate any immediate threats; searching for danger in a chamber filled with Hell's deadliest demons. He registered the stirring of his brethren, mentally marking their positions about the room before stretching his magic beyond the walls that encompassed them. It took only a single brush of his power to ascertain that Dumbledore had accepted his suggestion and corralled all of the students in the Great Hall; shielding the area with heavy wards and protective spells.

Slowly, his muscles loosened, his body relaxing completely as he became certain of his safety. With a silent yawn, he curled his toes against the cold stone beneath him and lowered the edge of one heavy wing. His eyes swept the pitch-black room, landing on each Retriever in turn. He frowned as his gaze landed on James, his lashes dipping to protect his eyes from the brilliant glow the older male exuded. With a curl of his lips, he snarled in disgust and rose fluidly to his feet. "Could you turn off the halo, Porter? You're making me nauseous," he sneered, lazily stretching his wings.

Lifting shimmering sapphires, James smiled sweetly. "Get used to it, Potter, because it's only a matter of time before Zeus wraps one around your neck." His grin grew as Harry's eyes widened, the fingers of one hand lifting to touch the gleaming circle of luminous light that seemed to hover above his dark locks. "You didn't actually think you'd make it back to Hell after this little stunt, did you? Going against the orders of your Lord to perform an act of complete selflessness . . . Oh, yeah, there's definitely a halo in Heaven with your name on it." He rose with a ruffle of silvery wings, the smile he wore growing at the horrified look on the Retriever's face.

"Prick," Harry sputtered, reaching for the comforting grip of his sword. Unfortunately, there was a slight tremor in his voice that belied the calm facade he was attempting to project. Gritting his teeth, he glared at Maylan, daring the snickering the Retriever to make a snide remark. When the red-haired demon lifted his hands innocently, Harry growled and swung to face the door. "I'm too bad to be good," he spat, stalking to the portal and nearly wrenching the door from its hinges in his haste to leave.

"Whatever helps you sleep, Saint Potter," James drawled, winking at Mortwyn before trailing the raven-haired Retriever from the room.

For a change, or rather for the moment, Harry took the moral high road and chose to ignore the angel. Instead, he focused on the task at hand. War. Just the thought was enough to increase the tempo of his heart and put a spring in his step. An eager smiled played across his features and he broke into a soft-footed lope, unconsciously aware of the eight Retrievers trailing him silently. His chin dipped dangerously, his lips parting as he inhaled deeply, testing the air. A rumble vibrated his chest at the familiar smell of sulphur and brimstone, the eerie sound echoed by the individuals following in his wake. In a counter second, the group took on the appearance and attitude of hunting Hell Hounds, their bodies quivering with barely restrained energy. They moved through the castle like a summer breeze, never slowing or changing course.

It was on the second floor of the castle that Harry stopped abruptly, his right wing snapping open unexpectedly and catching James in the center of the face. The crack of bone was loud, the angel's curse even louder, muffled though it was by his hand. Glancing innocently over his shoulder, the dark-haired Retriever shot a surprised look at the swearing angel, his brows lifting in apparent concern. "My apologies, Porter, I had no idea you were following so closely," he purred sweetly, his eyes darkening to jade as the coppery smell of blood reached his nostrils.

"Wingless bastard," James hissed, cupping his broken nose.

Waggling his sooty wings tauntingly, Harry turned his attention to his kin, lifting a single finger in their direction before turning his attention to the reason for his sudden halt. He moved quietly toward a windowed alcove, coming to a stop directly next to the individual standing before the icy panes. "Albus Percival Wulfric Brain Dumbledore," he greeted the old wizard politely, his glowing orbs sweeping the darkness beyond the glass.

His eyes never moving, Albus tipped his head stiffly and murmured, "Demon." The dark-haired male's amused chuckle tightened his jaw and curled his fingers into fists.

Nostrils flaring, Harry inhaled the ancient wizard's fury and smiled dangerously. "Your students?" He asked, his voice completely devoid of any emotion. A whisper of movement tilted his head, the grin leaving his lips when he realized the other Retrievers were creeping stealthily closer. Emeralds closing apprehensively, he reached for the hilt of his sword in warning, brushing his fingers lightly over the cold metal.

"Safe," Dumbledore snapped, his knuckles whitening. A soft murmur caused him to turn, his eyes widening fearfully as they landed on the group standing bathed in a brilliant white light. He took a nervous step backward, swallowing loudly and anxiously patting the voluminous folds of his robes in search of his wand. When he did locate the slender piece of wood, he withdrew it gracelessly, directing its point at the pack of demons.

"Be not afraid," James said soothingly, stepping forward and arching his gray wings. The light that surrounded him intensified, forcing the Retrievers to retreat into the shadows with disgruntled growls. Offering the wizard a gentle smile, the angel extended his arms and displayed his empty hands. "May the Light of Zeus shine upon you in your time of need." His brow furrowed when the wizard's eyes locked on his upturned palms and remained there. Lips firming, he lowered his gaze to his hands and glared at the blood smeared across his skin before slowly turning his narrowed eyes toward Harry.

"Batshit!" Cadyn coughed loudly.

"Cover your mouth," Braxton complained in disgust, roughly elbowing the smaller Retriever.

Emitting a rumbling snarl, Harry flashed glistening fangs at the tussling pair. "Enough," he barked, tugging on the hilt of his sword until several inches of gleaming iron became visible. With a weary shake of his head, he returned the blade to its sheath and turned his shining eyes back to Dumbledore, disregarding the wand that was leveled at his sternum. "It is in your best interest that all who dwell within this castle remain in the Great Hall until dawn. Should anyone leave the protection of that chamber, their safety cannot be guaranteed. I suggest you keep that in mind, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore." With a faint dip of his chin, he whirled around and slipped back into the shadows, brushing the other Retrievers aside as he went, knowing that they would follow without command.

His long strides chewed up the distance between them and their destination, his pace becoming almost frantic as the other Retrievers swarmed around him. Immediately, upon reaching a distance safely beyond the mortal's range of hearing, the fighting resumed. Exactly like he'd known it would. That thought alone was enough to clench both his jaw and his fists; his teeth beginning an audible grind.

"The Light of Zeus?" Maylan drawled, "That's quite the, ah, demotion, Porter."

"It's an honour!" James snapped back. He glowered in the demon's direction, his sapphire orbs shimmering brightly. As if in testimony of his statement, a soft hum filled the air, the noise accompanying the lightening of the halo encircling his head.

Scoffing, Braxton broke into a light jog, drawing even with Cadyn. "More like an insult," the Retriever muttered softly, his whisper eliciting a snarl of fury from the angel ahead of him.

Harry interrupted the brewing fight with a lifted fist. "We're here," he said, his announcement bringing the pack to a stop. A wicked little smile curved his lips as the Retrievers glanced around in bemusement, their expressions growing more confused with every passing second. The soft chuckle that vibrated his chest was decidedly devilish, as was the wolfish gleam in his orbs. Ignoring the wary eyes now locked on him, he stepped toward a small discreet door and pulled it open, allowing the cold winter wind to rush into the narrow passage. He slipped through the portal and glanced back over his shoulder, arching an eyebrow in silent inquiry before gliding out into the night.

An eerie silence had fallen with the setting of the sun; a silence that boded ill for anyone dumb enough to leave the sanctuary provided by Hogwarts. A sense of danger and doom filled the air and raised the hair at the nape of his neck. Tilting his head back, Harry crept further along the ancient gallery, observing the moonless sky with careful eyes. The place he'd chosen to launch their attack from was a spot he'd discovered on his earlier wanderings of the castle; a forgotten hall that stretched between two of Hogwarts' uppermost towers and overlooked the Forbidden Forest.

"I suppose it'll have to do," James grumbled, trailing along after the excited Retrievers.

Shooting the angel a glare, Harry shrugged his shoulders indifferently and leapt to balance neatly on the stone frame of one of the large windows, tucking his wings tightly against his back. "It's perfect," he purred, leaning forward and peering down at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Goose bumps raced along the exposed skin on his arms and legs, the icy wind stirring the kilt he wore. Attempting to ignore the cold seeping through his body, he reached up and grasped the hilt of his sword, inhaling deeply of the night air.

Sulphur and brimstone filled his nostrils, as did a myriad of other smells that all belonged to the demons hovering just inside the forest. He was dimly aware of the other Retrievers taking their places within the windows that lined the gallery, his senses honing in on the seething mass below. His nostrils flared as he sorted through the various smells carried upon the wind, weeding out the individual scents of several of the more dangerous and powerful demons.

"We should attack now," Mortwyn hissed, hopping up into his window and dropping into a crouch. He lowered a hand to the stone beneath his feet, splaying his fingers for better balance as he raised his chin and sniffed loudly.

"We should wait until they emerge from the trees," Braxton countered, climbing into the window he'd chosen and then sitting. He yawned widely as he dragged his sword from its sheath, laying the blade across the section of his kilt that spilled over his thighs.

"We should use those mortals as bait," Cadyn suggested.

Harry tensed at the other Retriever's seemingly innocent contribution. "Which mortals?" He asked, his mouth strangely dry.

"Why, the three cowering in the bushes over there," Cadyn replied easily. He shot a pleased look at Harry and sighed in disappointment at the expression on the raven-haired Retriever's face. "It was only a suggestion," he grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest sulkily.

Harry stared in open-mouthed disbelief at the students hiding in a small group of shrubs just outside the Forbidden Forest. He closed his mouth with a snap of teeth. "Hades' horns!" When he got his hands on those bloody Gryffindors he was going to tear them apart. He was so engrossed with thoughts of ripping the redhead limb from limb that he almost failed to notice the arrival of Remus and Sirius. In fact, he would have remained completely oblivious to their presence if it weren't for Sirius' jovial greeting. Emerald orbs still locked on the students, he addressed the pair hurriedly. "Remus, once we get those brainless morons out of the middle of our battlefield, I'll need you to take them to the Great Hall."

Arching a brow the Incubus peered around Harry's legs, his gaze going to where the trio huddled. "Of course, Harry," he said pleasantly, secretly happy to be safely away from the war zone. He ruffled his wings against the chilly air streaming around them, curling the heavy appendages forward about his lithe body.

"And take Sirius with you," Harry ordered absently, lifting a hand to forestall the minor demon's protests. He chanced a quick look over his shoulder, rolling his eyes at the expression on Sirius' face. "I'll need the pair of you to keep watch over the Great Hall. Make sure nothing happens there. And if something does go wrong, one of you will need to come and get me."

"Certainly, Harry," Remus replied, bumping Sirius lightly with the edge of one wing. If they did a good deed for the Retriever, their interference with the three mortals last night would be forgotten. Well, at least in his mind it put them all back on level ground.

"Excellent," Harry muttered, his eyes sweeping over the Retrievers quickly. After assessing his brethren carefully, he called out three names and gave a series of graceful hand gestures, directing the trio to retrieve the three mortals and return immediately. He hunkered down to wait as the three Retrievers leapt into the sky, their wings churning the snow that had settled along the window ledges. His eyes narrowed on the group huddled in the brush and he found himself holding his breath as he waited for the three Retrievers to act.

"There," Maylan breathed, "They've got them."

Harry sighed in relief, his emeralds tracking the flight of the three burdened demons. Gritting his teeth, he rose fluidly and stepped back into the gallery to await the group's arrival. He crossed his arms over his chest as the Retrievers landed lightly, unceremoniously depositing the three mortals at his feet. The fingers of his left hand began a rhythmic tap against his right bicep as he waited for them to gain their feet.

"Monster!" The bushy-haired witch shrilled, clambering to her feet. Her eyes widened in recognition as they landed on Harry. One slender finger rising to point at him unnecessarily. "You!" She screeched, the volume of the shouted word causing all nine Retrievers plus James to wince.

"Me," Harry growled, signaling Remus forward with a flick of his index finger. "You will follow him to the Great Hall. You will do it quietly. You will not attempt to run or attack him. If you do any of these, my friend Sirius will pluck the hearts from your chests. And then he will eat them." Staring at him in horror, the three mortals quickly bobbed their heads in agreement, deciding the innocent looking Remus was a much safer bet then any of the demons currently lining the passage.

Shaking his head, Remus whirled around and glided down the corridor, the three students and Sirius trotting along in his wake. He paused to open the door at the end of the hall, ushering the small group through while still watching Harry through calculating eyes. At the raven-haired Retriever's wave of farewell, he nodded his head and bowed shallowly, internally wishing the Retrievers luck, and hoping they wouldn't need it.

Turning back to face his kin, Harry smiled widely, revealing delicate fangs. "Shall we?" He purred, giving a broad wave of his hand in the direction of the Forbidden Forest. The others needed no further urging. With joyful whoops, they launched themselves out into the night, preparing to enforce the laws they were created to protect.

* * *

"Walk faster," Sirius grumbled, giving the redhead stumbling along before him a rough shove in the back. He ignored Remus' whispered warning and gave the wizard another poke, nearly causing him to fall. "Why do I always get stuck babysitting?" The minor demon whined, slowing his harried march to carefully re-angle several of the portraits they were passing.

"I constantly ask myself the same thing," Remus mumbled, nearly tripping over his own feet at a massive bang that echoed loudly in the seemingly abandoned castle. He lifted a hand to quiet Sirius, listening intently for any noise that could be considered out of place. A piercing scream drew a whimper from the witch standing between his wings. "Angel wings!" The Incubus cursed softly, glancing over his shoulder at the quartet.

"I'm not a genius or anything, Remus, but I think you should really consider going and getting Harry," Sirius hissed loudly.

Turning to glower at the minor demon, Remus shook his head in disgust. "Thanks for that brain numbing bit of advice, Sirius," he snarled in return. With another wag of his head, he pushed the three mortals toward the minor demon. "Find some place to hide them and then go to the Great Hall. Harry might need you there." That said, he took off in a rustle of wings, leaving Sirius and the trio staring at each other in mutual dislike

"So, uh, where do you guys suggest we hide?" Sirius asked finally.

"Are you going to eat our hearts?" Was the only response he got right before the redhead and the witch grabbed the chubby wizard and took off down the hall like the hounds of Hell were on their heels.

With a sigh, Sirius turned and plodded toward the Great Hall, internally pondering a change of career.

* * *

"Harry!" Remus shrieked, plummeting to the earth like a fallen angel. He spread his wings at the last second, halting his descent with a crash of dark feathers. Chest rising and falling rapidly, he ducked a swinging sword and scuttled around a bloody carcass, wincing as a chunk of flesh struck him in the chest. "Harry Potter!"

Tilting his head at the sound of his name, Harry dragged his blade from the gut of a screaming demon, laughing wildly at the other male's screech of pain. "A little busy, Remus!" He hollered loudly, beheading his foe with a careless wave of his sword. Before he could turn to face the panicked Incubus, another rogue slammed into him, a glistening dagger slashing toward his unprotected throat. Emerald orbs flashing, he twisted gracefully, avoiding the thrusting weapon with careless ease. His blade caught the attacking demon across the back, severing his spine and crippling him.

"Voldemort's here!" Remus shouted, weaving between bucking bodies and waving weapons. He grimaced in distaste as a head sailed past him, an arc of blood splattering his wings. Pausing to gingerly swipe at the warm liquid, he almost failed to notice the massive demon charging toward him, his only warning the roar the beast released seconds before collision was imminent.

Harry wheeled around at Remus' announcement, his eyes scanning the battlefield eagerly. "Where?" The dark-haired Retriever demanded, failing to notice the Incubus' dilemma. With narrowed orbs, he whirled to confront the other male, his emeralds widening at the sight of a very bloody and pissed off Incubus standing directly behind him holding the heart of the demon currently writhing upon the ground between them.

"The castle," Remus spat, dropping the heart with a curl of his lips. "He's in the castle."

Harry's eyes immediately went to Hogwarts, his body tensing as realization struck. A distraction. These minor demons were nothing more than a simple distraction. "Maylan!" He roared, unfurling his wings with a snap. "Voldemort's inside!" And so was Draco. Snarling like a feral Hell Hound, he rocketed into the sky, barely aware of the mindless massacre occurring on the ground beneath him.

It seemed like it took him forever to reach the castle and its maze of winding corridors, but it was only milliseconds. Heart pounding at the terrified screams ricocheting through the darkened corridors, he raced toward the Great Hall, his iron sword smoking within his grip. He was seconds away from rushing into the massive chamber when a hand latched onto his hair, the sharp tug dragging him to painful halt. Jerking around with bared teeth, he thrust his blade toward the individual's chest, only the other male's quick reflexes saving him from being spitted.

"Fool!" James hissed, brushing the blade aside with his own. "You'll get yourself killed. Or someone else." Shoving the raven-haired Retriever roughly away, the angel gave him a warning glare before sliding silently toward the open doors, his body pressed tightly against the wall.

Gritting his teeth, Harry quietly followed, his knuckles whitening around the hilt of the sword he clutched. He impatiently crept into the angel's sphere of light, resisting the urge to shove the male out of the way and enter the Great Hall swinging wildly. Fingers wriggling on the golden hilt of his iron blade, he glowered at the back of James' head, internally plotting the angel's demise. "Well?" He finally whispered, nudging the angel with a pointy elbow.

Drawing back, James glanced over his shoulder, shrugging at Harry's murmured query. "It's kind of hard to see." At the narrowing of the Retriever's glowing orbs, he continued," There are students everywhere. Guys in black capes with silver masks as well."

"What of Voldemort?" Harry growled softly, lifting his chin in hopes of detecting the High Court demon by smell. He froze, however, when a cheerful voice called out from within the chamber. The crooned words stilling his heart momentarily.

"I have something of yours, Harry Potter. Something I'll assume you'll be wanting back. Present yourself immediately and I'll even consider returning it in its current condition . . . alive and breathing."

"Let's think about this," James began hurriedly, a heartbeat before he was sent flying across the doorway.

Growling furiously, Harry stormed into the Great Hall, his eyes blazing as he swept the chamber for the High Court demon. A whimper of pain turned his head, his forward march halting abruptly at the sight of Draco dangling from one of Voldemort's skeletal hands. Swiveling on the balls of his feet, he faced the other demon, a hair raising snarl trickling past his lips. His arched wings quivered above his back, his chin dipping as he took a slinking step closer to the pair.

"No further, Retriever," Voldemort purred, lowering Draco so the toes of his boots brushed the floor. He grinned widely at the mortal's whimper of fear, his red orbs dancing at the angered rumble the sound pulled from Harry's chest. "I considered keeping it, I truly did, but I just don't have time for a pet. Ruling a plane is supposedly incredibly time consuming." His grin turned into a sneer and he transferred his grip from the back of Draco's robes to his throat, his fingers tightening slowly.

"Release him!" Harry barked, beginning a stalking glide forward. His senses honed in on the High Court demon, the chaos happening around them fading into the background. He transferred his gaze from Voldemort's hand to Draco's reddening face, his ire growing at the distressed gleam in the blond's pale eyes. "Killing him would be a mistake, Riddle. His death would mean centuries of suffering for you, and I do like making others suffer."

Shrugging aside the threat, Voldemort began to lift Draco higher, his sneer sliding into smug smirk as the mortal began to struggle within his grasp. "You haven't the strength, Potter," he said, carelessly brushing away the small hand scrabbling at his fingers. A crazed laugh left his mouth when Harry lunged forward. Tossing the blond mortal aside, he sprang to meet the raven-haired Retriever, drawing a sword that had been concealed within the folds of his dark robes. The pair slammed together in a clash of metal, straining against each other in the narrow space between two long tables.

"Surrender!" Harry bit out, sliding his steaming blade down the length of Voldemort's. He hissed as flecks of iron flew from the two blades, small bits of metal burning his arms and chest. A savage snarl vibrated his chest and he gave a powerful flap of his wings, the maneuver giving him the strength to shove Voldemort backwards, causing him to stumble and trip over the hem his long robes. Harry stalked him like a wolf scenting blood, a continuous growl flowing past his glistening fangs.

Managing to right himself as the Retriever launched another vicious attack, Voldemort hissed angrily, giving a wave of his empty hand in the dark-haired demon's direction. "Never," he snapped, watching his spell land with gleeful anticipation. No sooner had the magic collided with the Retriever then he sprang forward, raising his blade for a killing blow.

Yelping as Voldemort's show of minor magic burned a hole in his side, Harry hissed loudly and lifted his blade to knock the taller demon's sword aside, gladly accepting the opening the movement made in the High Court male's defenses. "Your death," Harry promised, plunging his blade toward Voldemort's heart.

"Or yours," Voldemort replied, swinging his sword downward suddenly. The movement was made not to prevent Harry's blow from landing, but to seriously injure the Retriever. A maniacal cackle erupted from him as the Retriever's sword sank into his chest, the blade sliding deep. He twisted at the last second, shifting his heart from the sword's path as his own blade connected with Retriever's right shoulder. Harry howled as pain raced through his body, the gash across the upper part of his arm burning alarmingly. He was forced to release his grip on his sword and stagger backwards, barely managing to avoid Voldemort's next wild swing. A quick peek at the injury had him paling, his shimmering emeralds meeting Voldemort's merry red orbs. "What did you do?" He hissed, lifting his hands to repel the High Court demon with magic.

"Liquid iron," Voldemort replied smugly, lifting his sword to admire the length of gleaming metal. His eyes shifted suddenly from the weapon to the doorway, narrowing as the rest of the Retrievers exploded into the Hall with roars of fury. He frowned at the sight, watching in dismay as his Death Eaters fled the scene with wails of terror. Transferring his gaze back to Harry, he arched his brows and said, "Something tells me you've been a very naughty Retriever. Unfortunately, they'll be unable to save you. Liquid iron taints the blood far worse than metal. It flows through your body, corrupting every organ it encounters. Why, even now it's streaming toward your heart."

Harry's eyes widened at Voldemort's statement. "Liar," he rumbled, straightening slowly. He drew a deep breath and rolled his shoulders, advancing toward the High Court demon with his hands extended before him. His aura expanded around him, stretching tendrils of power toward Voldemort.

Reaching down, Voldemort dragged Harry's sword free of his chest and threw it away, ignoring the gaping hole left in his chest. "Believe what you will, Retriever," he murmured, fluctuating his own aura in hopes of chasing Harry's away.

A sudden bellow of unadulterated rage shook the castle.

Harry froze at the sound, his eyes meeting Maylan's across the chamber. Unfortunately, that moment of distraction allowed Voldemort another chance at his heart. A chance that the High Court demon seized. The length of iron struck him high in the chest, missing his heart by mere millimeters.

A grimace of displeasure twisting his features, he lowered his eyes to the sword, watching impartially as smoke rose from the section of exposed blade. The metal was already poisoning his blood; leaching the strength from his body with every second it lingered within his flesh. With a soft hiss, he raised his hands and took the blade between his palms, easing the length of iron from his chest. He grit his teeth and closed his eyes, his chin tipping upward as he fought the yowl of pain that rose to his lips. Finally, with one last tug, the point came free, allowing a stream of blackened blood to slide slowly down his ribs. He gasped loudly, his glowing emeralds popping open just in time to allow him to witness Hades unexpected arrival.

The God of Hell appeared out of nothing. One second he wasn't there, the next, there he was in all his evil glory. Cloaked in black, he pivoted silently, observing the mass of gaping students through eyes of the palest blue. With a disgusted sniff, his glittering orbs narrowed, the reason for his presence upon the mortal plane remembered. "Harry James Potter, come forth," he demanded imperiously, his blue eyes snapping in the direction of a frightened squeak. The flames of the candles floating overhead guttered, shrinking down into their melted pools of wax as if seeking refuge from the angered God. Shadows suddenly writhed along the walls and in the rafters above, causing darkness to fall abruptly upon the Great Hall.

That darkness would have been complete if not for the golden light surrounding James.

"Turn him off! Turn him off," Sirius whispered loudly, only to find himself dragged from beneath the table he'd taken refuge under and towed toward the bemused God. When the magic that held him dissipated, he found himself sprawled at Hades feet, the tall male's pale orbs shimmering eerily down at him. "Ah, greetings, my most feared and revered Lord," the minor demon said respectfully. Unfortunately, he ended his perfectly phrased greeting with a high-pitched giggle, the noise causing Hades brow to furrow worryingly.

Lips pinched, the God glared down at the demon, his orbs darkening dangerously. "Sirius Black," he stated crisply, his gaze shifting from the male laying prostrate at this feet to the angel standing in a pool of heavenly light. "And James Mortimer Porter. What an intriguing combination. One can only wonder what brought the pair of you together . . . or should I say whom?"

Opening his mouth, and then quickly closing it, Sirius swallowed heavily. His gaze darted toward the closest shadows, his face whitening as Hades began to tap the toe of one black boot. "Ah, about that. Crazy story really. I'm sure you'll find it incredibly amus-" He snapped his mouth shut when that taping boot came to rest against the back of his neck, the pressure Hades exerting enough to wring a whimper of fear from his throat. "Voldemort's trying to take over the mortal plane, so Harry had to come stop him 'cause Dwayne can't pick his own nose without assistance, but Voldemort had an army of rebel demons and then Lily showed up and then James arrived and then Harry called for back-up because there was no way he could take on that many demons without help, and, well, here we all are. Are you going to kill me now?"

"Back-up?" Hades repeated angrily, his orbs flashing furiously. He removed his boot from the demon's throat and whirled around, his dark robes snapping with the speed of the movement. His eyes narrowed as he searched the darkness for any other members of his court. "Show yourselves," he barked, snarling angrily at the sobs of fear that escaped the students.

The darkness of the Hall was suddenly broken by a bellowed word. Before the yell had completely faded, the candle flames returned to their normal heights, their glow forcing the shadows to retreat. Revealed by that light was Albus Dumbledore. He stood proudly in front of the Head Table holding his wand before him, Severus Snape and Minerva McGonagall flanking him. Taking a deep breath, the wizard opened his mouth and said, "I command you to leave this place at once!"

Arching a single dark brow, Hades stared in disbelief at the mortal. "You dare command me," he rasped, stepping over Sirius and gliding gracefully toward the trio. His hands rose as he moved, his exposed palms seeming to fill with shadows. The temperature in the Hall rose with his anger, bringing sweat to the foreheads of the young witches and wizards clustered together in the corners of the chamber. An eerie wail filled the room and the entire castle trembled, dust and bits of stone raining down on the strange assembly.

Desperately clutching his wand, the Headmaster drew the tattered remains of his waning courage together and straightened his spine. "You have no authority on this plane, or within this castle, demon. Now, in the name of Zeus, I order you to depart!"

Hissing at the name of his greatest rival, Hades continued to prowl forward, a cloud of darkness settling about his shoulders. "I don't think I like you," the God of Death murmured, the air around him crackling with barely harnessed energy. Above the bravely flickering candles, the shadows twisted and surged, pressing against the barrier that contained them in the rafters. "Unfortunately, I have neither the time nor the inclination to deal with you." And then, instead of finding a solution to his problem, he simply stopped time. Like any God worth his temple and worshipers would have.

Silence washed over the chamber, the peace barely disturbed by the soft whisper of feet over stone. Hades' head whipped around at the sound, his eyes momentarily widening at the sight of eight Retrievers attempting to subtly slip deeper into the shadows behind them. "Halt." The word caused the group to freeze, their shoulders hunching noticeably. Slowly, he turned to face the group, the shadows within his palms slowly disappearing. "It truly amazes me, the tenacity of you Retrievers. It is as if you have no care for your own existence. You are forbidden this plane unless sent here on Hell's business. _My_ business. And yet I find eight of my finest Retrievers breaking the laws I expect them to uphold. Preposterous."

Exchanging uneasy glances, the Retrievers formed a neat line and bowed, dropping to their knees and dipping their wings respectfully. Their eyes followed the path of Hades' boots as he stalked by them, their hearts racing as he halted in front of Mortwyn and rested a delicate hand on the iron sword jutting from between the Retriever's shoulder blades. The sweet hiss of the blade slipping free of its sheath was chilling. Tension mounted as the sword sang sweetly, swinging gently back and forth within Hades grasp. Not a single noise was made by any of the Retrievers, all of them remaining perfectly still like frightened mice before an overly large and hungry cat.

"Do tell me, Maylan, how you came to be here?" Hades asked quietly, lifting the sword to inspect the length of iron with critical eyes. In a swish of black silk, he lowered the blade and turned, pacing back down the line with the sword passing within inches of the Retrievers' noses.

Maylan was given no chance to reply. Instead, Harry's voice filled the silence, strained and weary though it was. The weak sound of his voice lifted the heads of all eight Retrievers, bringing their eyes to where he and Voldemort stood.

"I summoned them, my lord. They were given no choice but to answer," Harry ground out, leaning back against the wall behind him for support. Blood dribbled down his chest in wide rivulets and stars sparked behind his eyes. He lowered his emerald orbs but refused to bow, not trusting Voldemort to mind his manners while he was in such an assailable position. And also because he was suddenly feeling unsure of whether or not he'd be able to regain his feet without assistance.

"A Retriever always has choice," Hades said, taping the side of his leg with the iron blade. His gaze shifted from the quickly paling Retriever to the High Court demon standing just beyond him, an expression of extreme innocence plastered across his snake like features. Fingers tightening around the sword, the God of the Underworld prowled toward the pair. Each step he took echoed ominously within the cavernous chamber. "Killing one of my Retrievers carries a death sentence, Tom. As does treason."

Bowing elegantly from the waist, Tom Marvolo Riddle straightened slowly, his gaze sliding nervously away from Hades. "I have committed neither crime, my lord," he stated politely, shuffling back a step. "And I believe there is no evidence of my having broken either rule."

In a fit of anger Hades stormed forward, snatching Harry by the side of the neck as he swept by him and dragging him ruthlessly in his wake. Halting directly before the High Court demon, the God of Death thrust the dark-haired Retriever forward, giving him a rough shake for emphasis. "He dies," he snarled, "Of iron poisoning. From a wound _you_ dealt him." His announcement was met with growls of outrage from the kneeling Retrievers and a loud gasp from James.

"He may yet live," Voldemort said sullenly, his red orbs darting anxiously in the direction of the suddenly standing Retrievers. His tongue flicked over his thin lips and he took a small step backwards, his body tensing as Hades emitted a soft hiss of warning.

Pale eyes dipping to the still bleeding hole in the Retriever's chest, Hades arched a brow before allowing his orbs to once again meet Voldemort's. "Doubtful," he said calmly, releasing Harry and watching as the dark-haired male collapsed reluctantly to his knees. His nose wrinkled when the young Retriever coughed blood over the stone floor, several droplets managing to find the toes of his boots. "Should he live, it will not change your fate. Your order of execution was signed long ago. However, the fact you had the audacity to attempt to slay one of my most favoured Retrievers does change the manner of your death. I had planned on watching you suffer within the deepest, darkest pits of Hell, but I no longer find that thought appealing. No, I have a far better idea now. And James Porter shall be the one to see it carried through."

"My lord, no!" Voldemort gasped loudly, sinking to his knees and clasping his hands together pleadingly. An expression of pure horror twisted his features, his red orbs swinging in the angel's direction. "I'm sorry, sire! It was a mistake! A terrible mistake." He scrabbled forward on his hands and knees, shoving Harry aside so he could wrap his arms around Hades' legs.

"I am no longer your lord," Hades snarled, sending Voldemort skittering backwards across the stone with a deft flick of his wrist. His eyes blazed as he gazed down at Harry's quivering form, his ears closed to the High Court demon's deafening cries for mercy. "Such a waste," he muttered regretfully.

Harry trembled upon the cold stone, his blood boiling within his veins. His fingers curled and straightened against his will, his wings fluttering like those of a broken butterfly. Blood trickled slowly from his nose and his back arched suddenly, the abrupt jerk flinging his head back until the tendons in his throat stood out. A gasp of pain slid over his lips, the sound harsh even to his ears. "My lord," he coughed, not knowing who else to address. His lashes dipped and when he managed to lift them, he found himself staring into a pair of familiar gray orbs.

Draco. The young mortal was frozen beneath a nearby table, his eyes impossibly wide and glistening with unshed tears. A few feet from the blond lay the sword that had undoubtedly killed Harry, his blood still smoking on its blade.

"Most favoured Retriever?" Voldemort screamed suddenly from where he was sprawled. He shakily stood, leveling a finger at the dying demon. "Your dearest pet has betrayed you far worse than I have. Look at the mark upon his forehead, Hades, and see how your treasured Retriever repays you!" A hand wrapped tightly around his throat and he was encompassed in a brilliant white light, the glow burning his eyes even as his ears rang with the holy sounds of a heavenly chorus. In a flash, both angel and demon vanished, Voldemort's terrified scream ringing through the Great Hall.

Whimpering as fiery fingers buried themselves within his gut, Harry writhed upon the stone, completely unaware of the fact that Hades had wrenched his head back. His nails dug at the floor beneath him, leaving deep furrows in the ancient rock. Death tore at him mercilessly, wringing gasps and grunts from his throat. "My lord," he managed to sputter again.

Teeth grit in anger, Hades tightened his grip on the dark locks twined about his fingers. "It would also seem that I'm no longer your Lord, Potter," he hissed, narrowed orbs locked on the lightning bolt scrawled across the Retriever's brow. A roar of fury flew from his lips and the candles guttered, the wind beyond Hogwarts' walls moaning mournfully. "Zeus!" He screeched, straightening to his full height and glaring at the ceiling. When his yell received no response, he rumbled angrily and swung to face the silent Retrievers, his face reddening with his growing anger.

"My lord," Maylan murmured, dropping liquidly to one knee. "What would you have of us?" His orbs shimmered brightly but his face was expressionless, his voice emotionless.

Sweeping their surroundings with a disdainful glare, Hades hissed loudly. "A dagger, Maylan, an iron dagger." His eyes dropped to the raven-haired Retriever dangling from his fingers, his lips curling at each gurgling breath the male fought for. Potter could, perhaps, be saved. But was the Retriever really worth the effort? He was ignorant and disobedient. He didn't make requests, only demands. His accomplishments were many, his failings few and far between. But one never truly recovered from iron poisoning. The fatal metal would always be within the Retriever's body, making him weak and slow. Better to kill him now, Hades acknowledged, rather than have him slain by a lesser demon later. Lifting his blue eyes, he stared at the Retrievers standing before him, sensing mutiny in the air and seeing it within their shimmering orbs. "Give me your blade, Maylan."

"You would kill one of your most loyal servants?"

Eyes closing, Hades drew a deep calming breath before turning to face the individual who had asked the impertinent question. "You and your lord have meddled quite enough in my business, Evans," he bit out, loosening his grip on Harry so the Retriever slumped back down onto the floor.

"Give him to me," Lily urged, striding effortlessly forward. Her emerald orbs shone eerily, her daisy white wings arching above her head. "Allow me to save him, Lord Hades." She swept closer to where the small group stood, moving within a sphere of golden light. Within the rafters, the shadows slowed and settled, the flames of the candles stretching slowly upward.

"You think he would appreciate that? Me giving him over to you to be turned into a harp wielding pigeon?" Hades shook his head and lifted a hand lazily, the gesture causing the eight milling Retrievers to vanish. A similar flick of his wrist had Sirius disappearing from where he had been sprawled. Lowering his gaze to the Retriever at his feet, he smiled slowly, his pale orbs glowing with a feral light. "I think I'll keep him just as he is. Forever suffering. Dying slowly from the iron pumping through his veins. He'll make a wonderful example to those who'd think to betray me as Tom Riddle did, don't you think?" Giving a small laugh, the God of Death disappeared, taking Harry with him.

As the normal flow of time resumed, Lily stood within the center of Hogwarts' Great Hall, her wings drooping sadly. She turned slowly, sweeping the frightened faces of the students with weary eyes. With a soft sigh, she lifted her hands and began weaving a small spell, erasing the past few minutes from the memories of the mortals. Well, from the memories of most of the mortals.

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A/n: Yah, it's not quite what I expected either, but it'll have to do. For some reason, no matter how long I sat and stared at my computer, I couldn't figure out how to end this any other way. There is of course one final chapter, wherein we find out what exactly happens to Harry. Anyway, thanks to everyone who took the time to read and review. Apologies for any disappointments, but it's been an overly long and tiring trip and I'm ready for the end.


	21. A Present and An Unexpected Gift

DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter and all other characters and locations belong to J. K. Rowling.

A/n: An astonishing 16 pages and 8266 words makes this the longest chapter I've ever written. It's extremely long and kind of complicated, so please pay attention. Damn it, I'm just glad it's over! I hope you all enjoy it.

Thanks for the amazing ride, CV.

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Epilogue - A Present and an Unexpected Gift

Huddled within his cloak, Draco Malfoy stared silently at the door engraved in the thick stone of the dungeon wall. He sighed heavily as he drew his knees against his chest and wrapped his arms around them, interlacing his fingers thoughtlessly. The door's presence was oddly calming; its existence as reassuring as the wand held tightly within his hand. If not for that seemingly useless portal, he'd believe himself quite mad. As it was, whenever he mentioned that dark night, his companions stared at him as if he'd gone completely bonkers. Even Pansy, who had reappeared suddenly within the Slytherin dormitory, stared at him in confusion when he demanded to know where she'd been. Mad, they called him, and sometimes he wanted to believe them.

But he knew he wasn't . . . because there was a door in Hogwarts' dungeons that led to Hell. A door that refused to open and resisted every spell in his limited repertoire. He shivered and wrapped his cloak tighter about his frame, closing his eyes and resting his head against the wall he was leaning against.

"Why do you sit alone in the darkness, Draco Malfoy?" A lilting voice purred from the shadows behind him.

Stiffening, Draco slowly turned his head, his eyes widening at the sight of a red-haired woman with sleek white wings standing in the corner farthest from him. He scrambled to his feet with a gasp of fear, his wand rising to point at her chest. "Who are you?" The question wasn't really a question; it was more of a demand. An extremely imperious demand that had the redhead's lips curling in amusement.

Gliding forward in a pool of golden light, she tipped her chin in greeting, eyeing him curiously. "I am the angel Lily," she murmured softly, sweeping around him and pacing toward the door drawn within the dark stone. Her wings rustled as she paused before the portal, one hand lifting to hover above the cold rock. "My face is a faint memory within your mind. My eyes, however, haunt your dreams." Turning, she walked back toward the wizard, halting only when the tip of his wand brushed the fabric of her white gown.

Draco stared into emerald spheres that glowed eerily, comprehension dawning slowly. "You were there," he breathed finally, his arm falling limply back to his side as the angel tipped her head and smiled. "That night in the Great Hall . . . you were there."

Taking a small step backwards, Lily ruffled her wings and bowed her head. "I was indeed there," she murmured, turning back around and prowling aimlessly across the chamber. She once again stopped before the portal, tipping her head to the left as she waited patiently for the young mortal to garner his courage. The seconds flew by, her patience wearing thin at the blond's continued silence. With a huff, she whirled dramatically around, tossing her wings open with a crash of feathers. "And now I'm here, Draco Malfoy. What I'm wondering, though, is why you're here."

Straightening angrily, Draco raised his chin and crossed his arms, glowering at the angel down the length of his nose. "I can go wherever I want," he drawled arrogantly. His eyes narrowed at the redhead's amused chuckle, the point of his wand bouncing as he began to tap one foot in an annoyed fashion.

"I see," Lily said, those two words causing the wizard's boot to stop in mid tap. Peering over her shoulder, she stared at the blond thoughtfully, a single brow arching slowly. "So, you're sitting alone in the cold staring at a wall because it pleases you to do so? Are you certain your presence here has nothing to do with this door scratched into the stone?"

"Of course not," Draco snapped.

"That's good," Lily said cheerfully, "because this door was never meant for more than one crossing." She swung around to face the young wizard, her smile sickly sweet as she folded her hands before her. The light that seemed to hover about her brightened, gilding her in yellow and turning her wings a dull gold.

"What?" Draco shrieked, staring at the angel in horror. Rushing forward, he halted beside the redhead, his gaze sweeping over the engraved portal as his hands fluttered uselessly before him. "You don't know that!" He barked, desperately searching for whatever it was that the angel had seen.

"Of course I do," Lily returned sharply. Whirling around, she aimed a finger at an intricately drawn rune, tracing its curves with the tip of her nail. "I've drawn a gateway or two in my time, boy, and this rune clearly states 'once'."

Anything else the angel may have said fell upon deaf ears because Draco had stopped listening when she unintentionally admitted she knew how to recreate the gateway. Pursing his lips, he focused calculating orbs on the redhead, wondering exactly what it would take to get her to assist him in creating a new door. Politely asking the angel seemed like his best bet, though he doubted she would agree. There was another way, though. A way that Harry would have heartily approved of. Pasting a charming smile upon his lips, he shifted slightly, drawing the woman's attention back to him. "Lily, I believe it was," he purred suavely, "Perhaps you could help me with a little problem I have. You see-"

"It is against the rules." Lily snapped, not liking the gleam in the wizard's pale eyes. She moved liquidly across the room, putting a decent distance between them before swinging gracefully back around. Her hands settled on her hips as she observed the flaring of the mortal's nostrils and the whitening of his knuckles; both obvious signs that he'd been attempting to subtly manipulate her. "Angels are not allowed to assist in the creation of any portals which might aid demons in gaining the mortal plane. Besides, whatever would you want with a demon? They're practically animals. Why, their manners are atrocious and they spend half their time rutting like wild animals. And don't even get me started-"

"Stop it!" Draco yelled, his wand rising once again to point at the angel's chest. "That's not true! None of it's true! Harry would never-" He stopped there, clamping his lips together and glaring at Lily through narrowed orbs. His wand shook within his grasp, the tip weaving dangerously from left to right as he tried to calm himself.

Lily schooled her features into an expression of mild interest, having to fight to keep from smirking smugly. "Harry who?" She inquired innocently, her eyebrows lifting slowly as the wizard stared at her blankly. Flipping a wing forward, she absently ran her fingers over the soft feathers, internally reveling in the fact that she could still successfully manipulate people with little thought or effort; a skill which was much frowned upon by other angels. "I could guess . . . but there are dozens of demons with the name Harry and I haven't the time to recite all their names and titles. So, I'll save us both a lot of tedious conversation and assume you speak of Harry Potter, the former Retriever."

Draco's mouth fell open as he stared incredulously at the angel. "You know Harry?" He hissed, the tip of his wand once again directed at the floor.

"Everyone knows of Harry Potter. He was once one of Hades most prized Retrievers. Once upon a time, he was spoken of almost reverently. His feats known to even the lowest ranking cherub. Now, he is merely a shadow of his former self." Lily murmured, watching the wizard closely. She padded closer to the blond, frowning as she noted his pale complexion and glassy eyes. "But he lives, Draco Malfoy, and some would say that is all that matters."

"I need to see him," Draco breathed before he could stop himself. His eyes met the angel's glowing emerald orbs and his tongue flicked out to dampen his suddenly dry lips, his fingers clenching about the handle of his wand.

Arching her wings, Lily sadly shook her head. "I cannot help you. To do so would mean going against the laws of my Lord, and that is something I will not allow myself to do." Bowing her head, she began to back slowly away from the wizard, pausing when her wings brushed the damp stone of the wall. "I will, however, tell you this . . . Harry's full name is Harry James Potter." With a loud - extremely un-angel like - thud, she vanished. The only sign she had ever been within the chamber was a single white feather that floated slowly to the stone floor.

Draco followed the feather's path with his eyes, blinking as it finally settled upon the floor. Listlessly, he padded forward, stopping when he reached the spot where it lay on the stone. He collapsed to his knees thoughtlessly, reaching forward to pick the feather up but stilling when his fingers brushed the patch of floor the feather rested on. With a soft hiss, he flicked his wrist and whispered _Lumos_, his eyes widening at the object the soft glow revealed. A smirk slowly curved his lips as he lifted the feather and twirled it between his fingers, his silver orbs locked on the thick tome lying in the shadows. Casting a quick glance over his shoulder, he collected the book and rose, practically skipping from the chamber with the angel's gifts held tightly in his arms.

XxXxX

Harry was sprawled on his stomach before a pool of belching magma, his wings stretched over the dark rock to either side of him. Idly, he flicked a small pebble into the bubbling puddle, watching in bored fascination as the boiling lava consumed the small stone. He yawned widely and tucked his left arm under his chin, searching out another stone with his right hand. There were a dozen things he'd rather be doing at the moment, unfortunately, his privileges had been revoked. All of them. All he had was this: a puddle of lava and a pile of pebbles. By no means was this his punishment for going against Hades orders. Nope, this was merely his only remaining form of entertainment. Eternity was suddenly looking like a very, very long time.

Another yawn escaped him as he palmed a good-sized rock, testing its weight with a lazy heft before pitching it into the center of the pool. He flinched as magma splattered around him, gritting his teeth as a small droplet struck him on the cheek. "Hades' balls," the Retriever snapped, swiping at the spot with his right hand. A grimace of anger twisted his features, the expression changing into one of horrified surprise when Sirius crashed into the rock next to him.

Sucking in a deep breath, the minor demon immediately launched into a fit of coughing, pausing in the midst of his hacking to flip off the seemingly empty darkness above them. "Hi Harry," he finally wheezed, rolling himself carefully into a sitting position and rubbing the back of his head.

With a sharp jerk, Harry yanked his wing from beneath the minor demon, his emerald orbs narrowing dangerously. "Sirius," he replied, lifting his eyes to scan the thin shadows concealing the ceiling of the cavern. Slowly, he returned his chin to his forearm, his gaze drifting back to the churning magma. "Out of morbid curiousity, how'd you find me?"

"Remus, of course. Maylan told us where you were, though." Glancing absently around, Sirius brushed dirt and soot from his arms and backside, failing to notice the murderous look that passed over Harry's face. "If you'd actually stay somewhere reasonably accessible, I would have been able to find you on my own. You're very fortunate you have such caring friends. Friends like me, who go out of their way to make sure you're not dying of boredom in some dark little cave by yourself."

Good friend my ass, the Retriever internally growled. "Excuse me for wanting to be alone." Harry snarled, his orbs flashing jade as he considered the size of the splash the minor demon's impact would cause should he happen to fall into the pit of lava. Accidentally, of course. He would never stoop so low as to amuse himself by offing his own gopher. Sirius could slip . . . he was a notorious klutz. Stranger things had been known to happen.

Sliding closer to the edge of the lava pool, Sirius eyed the frothing puddle warily, his fingers biting into the stone. "Retirement not going well?" He asked, completely unaware of the fact that his companion was eyeing him almost hungrily. "What you need is a hobby. Something to fill your time and keep you from thinking about Dra . . . things." The minor demon finished lamely, shooting a sidelong glance at the other male.

"And what would you suggest, Sirius?" Harry rumbled, raising a hand to absently scratch at the thick collar encircling his throat. He curled his lips at the brush of metal, his scratching quickly turning into tugging as he roughly jerked at the silver band. The collar was a gift from Hades and had the ability to stabilize the iron pumping through his veins. It eliminated the pain the liquid metal caused, yet at the same time, if removed, it sent the raven-haired Retriever into a world of hurt. Like all gifts Hades chose to give, it was more of a burden. A pain in Harry's ass.

"Anything but this, Harry. Sitting alone in a cave throwing pebbles into a pool of magma isn't good for your mental stability." Sirius whined, hefting one of the Retriever's stones and chucking it blithely into the gurgling pool. He watched as the stone was consumed by the fiery magma before reaching for another, yanking his hand back when Harry made a grab for it. "Remember the good old days? Beating up imps and harassing the messenger demons? You should go out and do some of that. I bet you it'd cheer you up real quick."

"Have you looked at me lately?" Harry snarled, springing to his feet and opening his wings with a snap. A rumbling growl vibrated his chest at Sirius' weakly hidden wince, the minor demon's gaze everywhere but the Retriever's splayed wings. "I look like a pigeon! A big, fat, park pigeon!" The raven-haired male bellowed, flapping the mottled gray and black appendages for emphasis.

Sirius stood and backed cautiously away from the enraged Retriever, grimacing at the sight of Harry's wings. The once dark scales were now multihued; a delightfully bright combination of gray, white, and, ebony. "You don't look like a pigeon, Harry," Sirius assured his companion, "You look like a seagull. A big, pissed off, parking lot seagull." A surprised squeal escaped the minor demon when the Retriever lunged forward with his hands outstretched.

"A seagull?" Harry hissed, curling his fingers around Sirius' neck and lifting him off the ground. He gave the minor demon a rough shake, delighting in the gurgle of fear that spilled from the dark-haired male's mouth as he flailed wildly about. "That's supposed to make me feel better about myself?" Giving his head a disgusted wag, Harry tossed Sirius across the cavern, watching in satisfaction as the minor demon collided with the wall before sliding slowly to the ground.

"Do you feel any better now?"

Harry stiffened at the question, his emerald orbs rising to scan the shadowed ceiling of the cave. "Do I feel any better?" He repeated in a snarl, inhaling deeply as his head swiveled in search of the other male. "What is this, Remus? Some twisted form of therapy?" His eyes discerned a slight shift in the darkness above him, his nostrils pinching at the musky smell of sex the Incubus exuded.

Realizing he'd been seen, Remus allowed himself to float gently downward, giving his wings the lightest of flaps to slow his descent. "Did it feel at all therapeutic?" He asked, landing a safe distance from the enraged Retriever. His gaze shot to Sirius when the minor demon rolled over with a low groan, his movements drawing Harry's narrowed orbs. "Because if it did, I highly recommend continuing - not on me," he added sharply when the dark-haired demon's shining emeralds slid toward him.

"You're volunteering Sirius?" Harry purred, hefting his wings aggressively. He took a predatory step toward the Incubus, knowing full well the brown-haired demon would put up a good fight, but stilling when Sirius mumbled something unintelligible. "What?" His eyes never moved from Remus but his brow furrowed at Sirius' garbled observation.

"Glowing green," Sirius repeated dazedly, "Like a pretty little firefly." His glazed eyes were resting firmly on Harry.

Taking a deep breath, Harry lifted a hand and stared at his fingers, his lips just beginning to form a nasty curse when he vanished with a pop.

Heaving a relieved sigh, Remus turned toward Sirius and planted his hands on his hips. "A seagull!" He shrilled, his wings rustling loudly as he stormed in the minor demon's direction. "Are you trying to get us killed? Do you really think he hasn't noticed that he looks like the product of a drunken mating between a dove and a crow? Seriously, Sirius, you really need to learn to engage your brain before your mouth." With a disgusted hiss, the Incubus leapt into the air and disappeared among the shadows, leaving the minor demon stranded in a deserted corridor of Hell.

XxXxX

Draco Malfoy glanced at the small clock resting on the floor beside him and rose fluidly. He rubbed his hands briskly together and surveyed the small chamber he'd commandeered in the dungeons of Malfoy Manor. Everything appeared to be in place. Biting his bottom lip nervously, he strolled quickly around the perimeter of the salt circle he had created, his eyes scanning for any imperfections in the thick white line. After assuring himself the line was unbroken, he shot another quick glance at the clock, checking the placement of the minute hand. It was almost time.

He drew a deep breath and spun around, stalking toward the bag he'd left in the corner earlier. Without pausing to second-guess himself, he hauled the thick tome free of the bag and started back toward the circle, the grimoire clutched tightly within his hands. A tight smile crossed his lips as he caressed the book's cover absently, hoping that Lily the angel was looking the other way this particular night.

Somewhere within the Manor a clock began to chime, the deep bongs resonating through the massive castle. It was midnight; the time when the veil between the planes was at its thinnest. "This had better work," Draco muttered, flipping the grimoire open to the page marked with a single white feather. He shuffled in place for a moment, his eyes sweeping over the words he'd read over and over again until they were ingrained within his memory. Finally, after casting one last prayer toward the Heavens, he spoke the simple sentence required to return Harry to the mortal plane.

"Harry James Potter, former Retriever of Hades, I summon you."

The grimoire closed with a dull thud in his hands and the chiming clock above grew silent. Swallowing heavily, Draco waited, his pale orbs locked on the center of the circle. Seconds slipped into minutes, his patience growing more strained with every tick of the clock's hands. Despair was beginning to set in when the torches on the walls guttered. Eyes flicking from the dying flames to the circle, the blond held his breath, his knuckles whitening upon the grimoire.

A shriek of pure fury had him paling, his eyes widening as a flash of bright green blinded him momentarily. He stumbled backwards, the grimoire falling from his hands as his back struck the wall of the chamber. Fighting down the urge to flee, he huddled against the wall, his orbs locked on the shuddering mass resting within the center of the salt circle.

"Who dares disturb me?" Harry hissed, raising his chin and scanning the shadows with orbs that glowed an eerie shade of jade. His nostrils flared and he tipped his head, sinking dagger like nails into the stone between his knees. He grew still as a familiar scent tickled his nose. Opening his mouth, he inhaled again, dragging air over his tongue. Brow furrowing, he straightened into a crouch, flipping his wings back. "Draco."

Gazing at the dark-haired demon in awe, Draco finally remembered to breathe. Even as his lungs expanded, Harry's head swiveled in his direction; those glowing orbs settling on him without err. "Harry," he whispered weakly, taking several short strides forward. Thoughtlessly he collapsed in front of the demon, taking in the Retriever's changed appearance with wide eyes. "I thought you were dead."

Drinking in the sight of the blond, Harry licked his lips and slid his nails free of the stone he crouched upon. "Hades was merciful," he replied curtly, scanning the chamber quickly before returning his attention to the wizard. He crept toward the edge of the circle on his hands and knees, stilling when the tips of his nails brushed the thick line of salt. "Let me out, Draco." The whisper was more a plea than a command.

Draco reached out to break the white line but halted, his fingers curling into his palms as he shifted warily. Staring at the raven-haired demon kneeling before him, he realized he'd never thought any further then the actual Summoning. What exactly did one do with a demon? He shook his head as Harry repeated his demand, pulling his hand back and drawing his knees up against his chest. "I can't."

"Just break the line," Harry urged the blond in a whisper. He frowned when Draco shook his head, his eyes flashing angrily. The uncertainty he saw on the blond's face had him sighing softly and relaxing his posture. Stretching his wings lazily above his head, he flowed backwards until he was once again in the center of the circle and then sat. He studied the wizard silently, breathing in his scent and just enjoying his quiet presence. "I missed you." He was, perhaps, even more amazed by the statement than the blond was.

Blinking in surprise, Draco bit his lip, his eyes darting restlessly about the room. "If I let you out . . . what will you do?" He asked finally, his pale orbs returning to the raven-haired male.

A faint smile curved his lips and Harry tipped his head to the right, considering the question carefully. "You Summoned me," he responded after a moment's hesitation, "Therefore I'm yours to command. So, Draco Malfoy, the question becomes: what do you want me to do?" Sitting perfectly still, he watched the blond, his nose picking up the slightest of changes in the wizard's scent as he thought the question over.

After several minutes of deep thought, Draco's eyes returned to Harry and he rose gracefully. Slowly, he glided toward the circle, his gray orbs full of purpose. Resting the toe of his boot against the salt line, he stared into the demon's emerald orbs and drew a deep breath. "Don't leave me like that again," he murmured, breaking the line of salt with a delicate movement of his boot.

Harry stood and glided fluidly toward the blond, slowing only when he stepped over the white granules spread across the dark stone. He prowled toward Draco like a wolf stalking a lamb, his strides long and unhurried. "I'll have to leave eventually," he murmured, "But I promise to always return when you call me." His wings arched forward, encircling the wizard in a well-practiced maneuver, preventing him from moving backwards. When their chests were inches apart he halted, staring down into Draco's wide eyes with emeralds that shimmered lovingly.

Nodding his head slowly, Draco cautiously placed his hands on Harry's biceps, his fingers tightening as the dark-haired male dipped his chin, bringing their faces within millimeters. "I'll call you as long as I live," he promised fervently. His breathing hitched when Harry's lips brushed first his forehead and then the tip of his nose. For one second the demon's mouth hovered above his, their soft exhalations mixing as they gazed into each other's eyes. And then Harry closed that short distance.

With a growl that vibrated his chest, Harry wrapped his arms around Draco's waist, pinning them together as their lips meshed. His tongue ran delicately along the blond's lower lip before teasing the seam between, begging entrance gently. He trembled violently at Draco's light moan, the scales of his wings hissing together as the wizard encircled his neck and opened his mouth. He took possession of the blond's mouth forcefully, his tongue plunging ruthlessly against Draco's, drawing a strangled gasp from the wizard. They broke apart as they fought for air, their hands stroking idly.

"You might just be the death of me," Harry breathed against the side of Draco's face, hugging the blond closer. He smiled as the wizard chuckled lightly and snuggled against his chest, for once in his life believing in something other than mindless killing. Because this was definitely love . . . with a healthy dose of lust thrown in just for good measure.

XxXxX

On a cold day in September six years after his graduation, Draco Malfoy returned to Hogwarts. It was at the behest of Albus Dumbledore that he returned. He could have refused the order. He had, in fact, even gone so far as to write a letter of refusal. However, when he'd stood with the signed and sealed parchment in his hand before a sleek barn owl, he'd found himself unable to actually send the document. Not because his morals demanded he respond in the negative, but because he knew that he was the only one who could perform the task Dumbledore requested of him. And that task was a momentous one.

He, Draco Malfoy, was going to teach demonology . . . to Hogwarts students . . . at the request of Albus Dumbledore.

Harry had laughed so hard he'd cried when Draco first handed him the correspondence. After several hours of quiet debate, the pair had agreed Draco would accept the position of Professor of Demonology. If for no other reason than the chance to terrify young children who didn't believe in the things that went bump in the night. It was going to be a highly entertaining few decades . . .

Time passed as it was wont to do. Thousands of students came and went, some more enlightened than others. All of them taught in the way of the wand. And the way of the demon.

Students who entered the Demonology classroom in the dungeons exited with shell-shocked expressions upon their faces. Like they had seen something within the chamber that defied everything they'd ever been taught. And as it was only the seventh and sixth years who were eligible for the lessons, the younger students were left to ponder the contents of the dungeon room.

There were those who ignored the rules of the school, who crept down into the dungeons at night and attempted to gain access to the chamber; curious to catch a glimpse of whatever it was that spooked the older students to such a degree that many kept night lights in their dorm rooms. Only a handful had ever found the room's door unlocked. It was that handful that stared at Draco Malfoy with reddened cheeks and horrified eyes, unable to recount what they had witnessed to their friends or housemates. After all, it wasn't every day one caught ones Professor engaged in activities of a decidedly sexual nature with a dark-haired, emerald-eyed demon.

To Harry Potter, the years passed quickly, his time spent between Hell and Hogwarts. Yet as the decades flew by, he became more aware of Draco's mortality. He watched the wizard age, almost terrified to admit to himself that the blond would eventually die. And not quite able to contemplate life without the blond. It was for that reason, on a warm summer night sixty-three years after Harry had first met Draco, the demon slipped from the wizard's bed and into the adjacent chamber.

Closing the door quietly behind him, he prowled the room slowly, raising a hand to run his fingers across the lightning bolt scar on his forehead. A long sigh slid past his lips as he halted in a shadowed corner, his hand falling back to his side as he prepared himself for what was to come. He, Harry James Potter, was about to call in Zeus' favour. Drawing a deep breath, he shot a quick glance in the direction of Draco's bedchamber, and then intoned the name of his least favourite angel. Minutes passed as he waited in the darkness, his patience waning quickly. He was about to curse the God's name when a brilliant golden light filled the room, the flash forcing him to turn his head and close his eyes.

"Harry Potter," Lily stated, ruffling her pale wings as she glided toward the demon. Her eyes swept the room, her lips curving as she became aware of her surroundings. Draco Malfoy, it seemed, was everything she'd known he could be. "You called me," she said, finally turning her attention to the dark-haired Retriever.

Eying the angel with distaste, Harry gave a slight bob of his head, trying to ignore the slow smirk sliding across the redhead's lips. "My favour, I wish to use it now," he muttered, shifting nervously as Lily's grin grew. His wings rasped together, the speckled scales rubbing abrasively against each other.

"Excellent," Lily purred, sliding closer to the demon. She stilled when the Retriever slid a hand around to the small of his back, lifting her hands innocently and retreating a step. "And what would you have of me and my Lord, Potter?"

Expression devoid of any emotion, Harry lifted his chin and made his demand. "I wish you to make Draco Malfoy immortal." He forced himself to remain still as the angel gaped at him in apparent surprise, his teeth clenched around the 'please' that sought to spring to his tongue.

Brows arching in disbelief, Lily stared at the raven-haired demon. "You wish me to immortalize a mortal?" The question escaped her mouth in a scandalized hiss. Her emerald orbs widened as she began to shake her head in denial. "I cannot, Harry. It goes against the Rules of Mortality." Her eyes darted nervously about the chamber; the halo hovering above her fiery locks beginning an audible hum.

"I performed a job for Zeus, Evans, at my expense. I lost my position within Hell! My reputation has been polished beyond defilement! And to top it all off, I look like a pigeon! Now, you will give me exactly what I want," hissed Harry. With a snarl, the Retriever began to stalk back and forth, his hands fisting until his nails bit into his palms.

"You would have me go against the laws of my Lord?" Lily murmured, her narrowed eyes following the raven-haired Retriever's agitated form as he paced back and forth before her. She shifted warily as the demon turned blazing orbs on her, his lips curving back to display delicate fangs in a silent warning. "There are some things I will just not do, Harry Potter, and going against the rules I uphold is one of them."

"You owe me," Harry bit out. He hefted his mottled wings, reminding the angel of what he'd done for the mortal plane and Zeus. His hands balled into fists when Lily began to shake her head, a rumbling growl trickling over his tongue.

Brow furrowing, Lily continued to shake her head. "Choose something else. Something reasonable, and I will see it done." Her orbs widened as the demon sprang toward her, his hands outstretched and his teeth bared. With a soft gasp, she vanished, reappearing on the opposite side of the room. "Such behaviour will get you no where. My Lord and I may be in your debt, but we will not put up with your brutish antics, Potter. Change both your ways and your request and I will see it done. Until then, may Zeus watch over you." Dipping her head, she disappeared in a flash of golden light.

Harry howled in fury. His eyes flashed red and his wings crashed open, scales shimmering dangerously as his magic rose and swirled around him. Lifting his burning eyes to the ceiling, he vowed, "The day Draco Malfoy passes . . . I will tear this plane apart! You and your Lord will rue this day, Lily Evans!" He glared at the roof for several long seconds, his chest heaving and his body vibrating with his anger. Hissing loudly, he swung around and left the shadowed chamber, returning to his place within Draco's bed.

And so there was to be no hope for Draco's continued existence. He would die when the Fates deemed it time . . . and there was absolutely nothing Harry could do about it. The thought was almost enough to bring a tear to the Retriever's eye.

Since demons didn't cry, the dark-haired male chose to enjoy their time together, appreciating every moment he spent in the blond's presence. He returned to Hell only when he had to, remaining until Draco Summoned him back to the mortal plane. But he always came back without fail. And Draco never failed to call him home.

It was a cycle that repeated itself through the decades, the years trickling past in a blur of Summonings. As the time passed, Draco aged. He grew old and frail, his pale golden hair turning snow white. His eyes dimmed and his skin wrinkled, and Harry remained forever young, watching as the only thing he'd ever loved died a slow death.

Eventually, death knocked on Draco Malfoy's door.

Harry had known the blond's time was near. He'd watched the uneven rise of his chest and listened to the irregular beating of his heart. Had felt the wizard slipping farther and farther away from him. He stayed at the blond's bedside as long as he could, one of Draco's cold hands clutched between both of his.

But the tethers that bound him to Hell tightened, reaffirming his need to return to the fiery plane before a Retriever was sent to hunt him down. Yet he was reluctant to leave with Draco drifting ever closer to death. When the risk grew to real and the collar around his neck burned threateningly, he rose gracelessly and leaned over Draco's still form. He brushed a kiss against the blond's cold lips and then buried his face against his neck, inhaling deeply. He dragged the wizard's smell into his lungs like he meant to trap it there. "I love you," he breathed, the words ringing with a finality that scared him. Rising, he stepped away from the bed, his strides slow and measured as he walked into a shadowed corner. He paused in the darkness, glancing over his shoulder one last time before allowing himself to be whisked back to Hell.

Six days later, when he was still within the fiery depths of Hell, he acknowledged the truth. Draco was dead. And he was never going to see him again. That thought was all he needed to wish for death. But demons didn't die - certainly not of broken hearts anyway - they had to be killed.

So, with a light heart and an eager grin, the retired Retriever set out to get himself slain. Unfortunately, there was no one up to the task currently residing in Hell. No matter who he threatened, tortured, or baited, no demon was willing to risk Hades wrath and kill him. Which meant he had to do the deed on his own. After three failed suicide attempts and one major case of third degree burns, he gave up.

He was sprawled on his back in front of the throne room with his glazed orbs focused on the darkened ceiling when Hades and his entourage stumbled across his limp body. He didn't so much as blink when the God nudged him roughly with the toe of his boot. The second, much harder kick, earned nothing more than a soft exhalation.

"Bring me Sirius Black," Hades ordered in disgust as he glared down at the former Retriever. The toe of his boot was tapping impatiently when the minor demon arrived, his pale eyes locked on Harry's inert form. Directing Sirius' attention to Harry with a casual wave of his hand, the God arched a brow and said, "Explain."

"Uh, his mortal died?" Sirius croaked, inching forward and giving Harry a light shove with his bare foot, hoping for a reaction of any sort.

"That's the problem with keeping pets," drawled Hades, smirking as the demons surrounding him teetered. His smirk vanished as he refocused on Harry, staring down at the raven-haired male thoughtfully. "He has done nothing since the mortal's death?"

Sirius shifted nervously, wondering if Hades was aware of Harry's recent activities or if the God was oblivious to the demon's actions. "Ah, no?" The minor demon answered finally, deciding if Hades didn't know what Harry had been up to, he sure as Heaven wasn't going to tell him.

Hades frowned and crossed his arms. "Well, if he's not going to be a productive member of Hell than he can't stay." Even as he made the statement his expression brightened. His furrowed brow smoothed and a malicious smile curved his lips, his icy eyes brightening at some inner thought.

"You're kicking him out?" Sirius demanded, aghast at the very thought of being banished from Hell. He stared at Hades in disbelief, the hair at the nape of his neck rising at the evil expression on the God's face. "But where will he go?" This second question was asked in a bewildered tone and turned Hades glowing orbs in his direction.

"You may return to your duties, Black," Hades said dismissively, his shimmering eyes daring the minor demon to refuse the order. "Harry Potter shall be taken care of." With that, he returned his gaze to Harry, the wicked grin he wore growing as the scheme within his mind began to unfurl.

And so with one last worried look at Harry, Sirius slunk from the corridor, not knowing that that would be the last time he ever saw the raven-haired male.

XxXxX

A gentle tug on his hair drew Harry from slumber. Yawning widely, he snuggled back against the soft bed he lay in, marveling at the way it cradled his body. He tensed suddenly, his wiggling motions halting. Slowly, with great trepidation, he opened his eyes, and then quickly closed them again. Drawing a deep breath, he eased one emerald orb open, taking in his surroundings with mounting dread. Fluffy white clouds, ivory columns streaked with gold and warm beams of sunlight -- and Sweet Hades he was in Heaven. Literally.

He rocketed into a sitting position, nearly leaping off the narrow daybed as a delighted squeal split the air. Slapping his hands over his ears, he gaped in horror at the chubby little cherub hovering in the air before him, its face alight with its joy at his waking. Harry swallowed heavily as he lowered his hands, drawing his wings protectively against his back as the cherub drifted closer.

"Welcome to Heaven, Harry Potter!" The small white winged cherub shrilled, fluttering around the dark-haired male's head happily. He giggled at the horrified look on Harry's face, fluttering forward to pat the demon's cheek consolingly. "I hope you enjoy your stay with us!" With one final pat, he drifted cheerfully from the room, humming softly as he went.

Emerald orbs following the cherub's weaving path, Harry began to shiver uncontrollably. He was in Heaven. Heaven was where the really bad demons went, the ones with morals and ethics who couldn't kill thoughtlessly. But he was a good demon. Heaven, he'd participated in more massacres than he had fingers to count them on. And yet here he was in every demon's worst dream.

"Greetings, Harry Potter."

The sound of that voice had Harry growling softly, his glowing orbs rising to where Lily Evans stood framed between two tall columns. He rolled off the daybed liquidly, his hands fisted as he stalked toward the angel. "Lily Evans," he snarled, thrusting his wings open with a fierce crack, "Just the angel I wanted to see."

Lily smiled and reached back over her shoulder, sliding a rapier like sword from the sheath she wore upon her back. "Do give me the pleasure of slaying you, Potter," she purred, brandishing the weapon before her. Her smile died as Harry's forward stalk halted, his eyes on the blade she held lightly within her grasp. Heaving a disgusted sigh, she lifted the weapon so its length lay unthreateningly across her chest, its tip resting just beneath her left ear. "Your presence here is neither mine nor my Lord's doing. You were sent, rather, with a pretty pink bow tied round your neck and a note from Hades clutched within your hand. You, Harry Potter, were given as a gift to Zeus."

Harry stood frozen, staring at Lily in dawning comprehension. His left hand rose unwillingly to touch his throat, his brow furrowing when he found it bare of both bow and collar. "A gift?" He rasped, his hand falling back to his side.

"A present, if you prefer." Lily said, sliding the small rapier away sadly. She wandered further into the chamber, her feet silent upon the shining almost opaque marble floor. Circling the room lazily, she folded her hands behind her back and furled her wings, her emerald orbs watching the former Retriever carefully. "The removal of the collar was a homecoming present from Zeus. Your body has been stabilized, the Liquid Iron drawn from your bloodstream and internal organs. Zeus is having a weapon crafted for you from the metal. I believe it will be a broadsword," she finished dryly.

"Homecoming?" Harry hissed, arching his wings up over his head. Anything else he would have said was forgotten as he eyed the massive appendages apprehensively, taking in their new appearance with emeralds that shimmered dangerously. His scales were white. Snow white. As white as the breast of a dove. A dismayed whimper slid from between his parted lips. He'd been converted.

"He's awake."

Lily rolled her eyes as at the announcement, turning to glare at James from the opposite side of the chamber. "You're late," she barked, striding toward the other angel with her hands on her hips. "I have business to take care of and you're off screwing around like usual."

"I got distracted," James replied simply, turning his attention to Harry. The smile he wore turned into a grimace as he stared at the dark-haired male. Raising a hand, he gestured at the top of his head, his fingers wiggling. "You have a . . ."

"Halo?" Harry whispered in horror.

"No, flowers. Damn cherubs put them everywhere. You have to be careful you don't stay in the same place too long or they'll get you," James said knowledgeably. Frowning, he reached up and quickly patted his own head, a triumphant smile curving his lips when he found the dark locks free of flowers.

Shaking her head, Lily breezed past her counterpart; her wing lightly brushing his as she gracefully exited the room. "You're in charge of Harry, James. Give him the tour and introduce him to everyone. He doesn't leave your side. Not for any reason." The last was said forcefully, a warning to Harry that he wasn't to try anything smart or stupid.

"Yes!" James said in an overly loud voice. "I don't have to go to Harp lessons!"

Halting, Lily whirled around, pinning James with a glare. "Yes, you do. Alyssia is expecting you both. She is to inform me should the pair of you fail to appear." Giving James one final hard eyed stare, the redhead stalked from the room, her parting comment directed at Harry. "Do try and be a good little angel, Potter, it's just much easier on everyone that way."

"Bummer," James mumbled, turning his pale eyes back to the other male. "You're about to receive your first lesson in why being an angel sucks, Harry." Sighing unhappily, he led the retriever-turned angel from the room, his shoulders slumped and his feet dragging.

XxXxX

Glaring at the small golden harp James thrust into his hands, Harry allowed himself to be pushed into a chair near the front of the class. His narrowed orbs stayed locked on the gleaming instrument, his lips curling back as angels began to file into the chamber and take their seats. He was dimly aware of the seat next to his being taken, but he ignored the individual who'd been stupid enough to sit within arms reach of him. Instead, he balled his hands into fists and clenched his jaw, his eyes sparking dangerously as a perky little angel with snow-white wings and long blonde hair merrily clapped her hands together, bringing silence to the group.

"Hello Class!" The blonde called cheerfully, fluttering her wings as she surveyed the assembled angels. "I'd like to welcome you all to Harp Lessons for Beginners and remind everyone that they are responsible for the happiness of their classmates."

Hades' horns, he was going to be sick. Harry swallowed heavily and slid deeper into his chair, his nails carving grooves into the delicate wood of the harp he clutched. "I'm going to kill you," he informed James in a whisper. The teacher's admonishing tut had him baring fangs and snarling savagely, silently taking pleasure in her horrified look. He was about to repeat his performance when something brushed his wing, the light caress causing him to stiffen and tighten his grip on his harp. Shooting James a threatening glare, he arched his wings higher, ignoring the mumbles of displeasure his movements drew from the row seated behind him. "I'm going to strangle you with your halo."

"You should really pay attention," James replied, not appearing the least bit perturbed by Harry's threats. "They make you take this class until you pass. And trust me, it doesn't get any more exciting the six-hundred-twenty-fifth time through."

Opening his mouth to respond, Harry stilled, his teeth coming together with a clack as something touched the inside of his left wing. The wood of the harp creaked warningly in his grasp, his eyes beginning to burn a deadly shade of green. He drew a deep breath and almost choked, his entire body tensing as a familiar smell tickled his senses. Brow furrowing in bewilderment, he parted his lips and inhaled again, drawing the air over his tongue as he frantically attempted to recover that beloved scent. His concentration was broken by a light bump from behind. Between his palms, the harp snapped, sending slivers of golden wood into the air.

Uttering a roar of fury, he rocketed to his feet and whirled around, knocking both James and the angel who'd been dumb enough to sit beside him to the ground. His hands were already reaching for the individual's neck when his mind registered what he was seeing. Unable to stop himself, he slammed into the angel, sending both of them to the floor in a tangle of wings and arms. Face buried in pale hair, he inhaled slowly, his heart clenching as his lungs were filled with that familiar smell. Slowly, he pushed himself to his hands, his eyes locked with the orbs of the angel pinned beneath him.

"Hello, Harry." Draco Malfoy breathed, his fingers tangling in the former demon's raven locks. His eyes shimmered like liquid iron, his lips drawing up at the corners as Harry continued to gap at him in surprise. A soft laugh fell from his lips as Harry opened his mouth and then closed it again, seemingly unable to compose a coherent thought.

Drawing a deep breath and holding it, Harry gently laid a hand against Draco's cheek, his eyes widening as the blond turned his chin to lay a light kiss against his inner wrist. "How?" He managed in a croak, pretending his voice hadn't quivered like that of a mortal after seeing his first demon.

"He died," James spat, his voice slightly muffled by the hand he had clamped over his bleeding nose. "And thus, the Rules of Mortality were no longer applicable."

Blinking in understanding, Harry returned his gaze to Draco's, a grin slowly curving his lips. "You're immortal," he said in amazement.

Nodding, Draco slid his hands up to the nape of Harry's neck, applying enough pressure to force the dark-haired male's face closer to his. When their mouths were millimeters apart, he stopped, his eyes dancing evilly. "Just think of the hell we'll raise," he murmured promisingly before closing the short distance.

It was at that moment that Harry decided he might actually be able to live in Heaven. At least for a little while. Probably. Maybe. Well, as long as he had Draco anyway.

- The End -

A/n: The end. Can you freakin' believe it? I sure as Heaven can't. Anyway, thank you everyone for the wonderful reviews and I hope everybody enjoyed this little voyage through Hell. It may have taken a long time but we're finally done. This was honestly the most difficult story I've ever written. Heck, the epilogue alone was nerve racking. I realize this may not have been everyone's cup of tea, but change is good, for the most part. And, once again, thank you.


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